Broccoli Salad With Golden Raisins, Olives, and Pickled Mirepoix Relish

My leftover steamed broccoli inevitably ends up in a cold dish, as reheating can make it mushy. I had tossed these little trees with salt, pepper, olive oil, and lemon juice during their first lives; so to dress the salad, all I used was a bit of additional olive oil.

Mirepoix refers to the French holy trinity of cuisine: onions, carrots, and celery. Tradition calls for two parts onion to one part each carrot and celery, a fact that I did not know when I made this pickled version. So if you're a publisher who has decided not to give me a cookbook deal based on that transgression, please keep in mind that, hey, now I know (though if you want an author who knows what the hells she's talking about, you're not the variety of publisher who would have given me a cookbook deal anyway).

Salad isn't the only use for Pickled Mirepoix Relish. You can sprinkle it on deviled eggs, thick soups, hot dogs... Maybe even dessert? Worth a shot. I see Pickled Mirepoix Cookies in my near future.

As mentioned at its first appearance on The Chickenless Kitchen, this brine recipe was adapted from the one for Fresh-Pickled Vegetables on page 220 of Alice Waters' The Art of Simple Food.

Pickled Mirepoix Relish

Ingredients

1/2 c. each carrot, celery, and onion, minced

1 batch of pickling brine, subbing an equal amount of sugar for the acai black currant syrup

Directions

Combine the veggies in a heatproof container. Set aside.

Bring the brine to a boil for five minutes. Pour the brine over the veggies. Strain immediately. Allow to cool, then store in the fridge for at least two hours before using. Makes 1 1/2 cups.

Beat the eggs. Whip the cream. Show no mercy.

Bookmark this on Delicious

The Melting Pot Method

You may have heard of the Clean Out Your Fridge Method: Take all the ingredients you have that are on their last legs and dump them into an egg-based dish.

The Melting Pot Method is a little different. While it can have the side benefit of cleaning out your fridge, the primary focus is getting foods that you associate with varying cultures to jive. This does not necessarily mean you need exotic imported ingredients; for instance, the pineapple in this recipe that I chose to associate with Hawaiian culture was locally grown here in Florida.

What process can you use to employ the Melting Pot Method in your kitchen?

Step #1

Choose from the variety of existent egg-based dishes. These include quiches, omelettes, frittatas, tortillas, skillets/scrambles, souffles... the list goes on. For this recipe, I started with the idea of making my egg-based dish a tortilla, which is Spanish in origin.

Step #2

Pick another region and choose two ingredients that could be associated with that region's cuisine. They don't have to be exclusive; for instance, I could associate "eggplant and onions" with pretty much anywhere bordering the Mediterranean.

Step #3... Here's the trick:

After you've come up with two ingredients other than eggs and the culture they represent in your recipe, put a twist on one of them. I chose a pig-and-pineapple combo that I associate with Hawaiian cuisine; but for my pig, I used Genoa salami rather than the traditional spit-roasted pork or... well, Spam. Going back to the eggplant-and-onion idea, let's say you choose to associate that with Italy. But if you use scallions instead of white onions, suddenly it's no longer strictly Italian-influenced. Get the idea?

Step #4

Add a coupla-few more ingredients based on the cultures you already have. At this juncture I added potatoes and onions, both of which appear frequently in traditional Spanish tortillas; and Parmesan cheese (Italian).

Step #5

Think of two more cultures that you haven't incorporated so far. My next idea was to add extra eggs for a thicker layer, bringing to mind a crustless version of the French quiche even as I steadfastly refused to call it a crustless quiche. And finally I threw in some pepper jack cheese to honor the good old U.S. of A.

See? Nothing to it. All you need are some good free association skills and enough self-respect to stay your hand when you're about to come up with something school-cafeteria-esque.

The Chickenless Chick's Melting Pot Tortilla

Ingredients

5 eggs

1/3 c. pepper jack cheese, cubed

1/4 c. Parmesan cheese, grated

1/4 c. water

6 slices cold cut Genoa salami, shredded

1 Tbsp. olive oil

1/2 white onion, sliced thin

1 russet potato, sliced thin

1 tsp. dried thyme leaves

1/2 c. pineapple, chopped

1/2 c. fresh cilantro leaves, chopped

Salt 'n' pepper to taste

Instructions

Heat the oven to 375.

Beat the eggs, cheeses, water, and salami together in a large mixing bowl. Set aside.

Heat the oil in a saute pan over medium high. Add the onions and saute two minutes. Add the potatoes and thyme leaves. Saute until the potatoes are soft, but not falling apart.

Add the pineapple, cilantro, salt, and pepper to the pan. Saute one minute more.

Add the contents of the pan to the egg mixture and stir well to incorporate. Pour into a greased 9" pie tin.

Bake at 375 for thirty minutes or until barely browned on top. Serves 6.

Beat the eggs. Whip the cream. Show no mercy.

Bookmark this on Delicious

Curry Spiced Lentil Salad With Coconut

I'm calling this Kelly and Casey's Salad, in honor of my good friends who would hate it. Kelly hates peas, Casey hates curry, and I can't imagine I got through composing the rest of the ingredients list without stepping on their picky toes.

Kelly and Casey's Salad

Ingredients

5 carrots, peeled and sliced

3 large boiling potatoes, parboiled and diced large

2/3 c. lentils, cooked until just tender

2/3 c. split peas, cooked cooked until just tender

2/3 c. black olives, chopped

1/3 c. olive oil

Juice of 1/2 a lemon

2 cloves garlic, pressed or minced

1 inch piece of fresh ginger, grated

2 tsp. dried cumin

1/2 tsp. salt

1/2 tsp. dried turmeric

1/2 tsp. dried coriander

1/4 tsp. dried cardamom

Dried cayenne to taste

1/2 c. chopped fresh cilantro

1/2 c. sweetened coconut flakes

Directions

Mix the carrots, potatoes, lentils, peas, and olives in a large container with a tight-fitting lid.

In a separate bowl, combine all remaining ingredients except for the coconut flakes and whisk together.

Pour the dressing over the salad contents, stir well, and seal the container. Let it marinate in the fridge at least 4 hours (an eight-hour work day is ideal). Thirty minutes before serving, add the coconut flakes and stir again, then leave the container on the counter until its contents are at room temperature. Serves 6-8 as an appetizer or light meal.

I served this salad with homemade pita chips and extra lemon wedges.

As always, I encourage you to play around with the recipe. For a creamy dressing, try adding plain yogurt or coconut milk. If you dislike the taste or texture of coconut, try subbing golden raisins, dates, or apples (fresh or dried).

Beat the eggs. Whip the cream. Show no mercy.

Bruschette Three Ways

My mom gave us some lovely garden-fresh produce to bring home following her boat parade party. You don't see tomatoes on this blog too often unless they've been pulverized into a sauce or soup, and the reason for that is because my husband is an extraterrestrial of some kind and dislikes un-pulverized tomatoes. But this time, I couldn't resist leaving them in their original un-pulverized form. I mean, look at them! Aren't they gorgeous?

They're not gorgeous? How can you say something like... Oh, you must be looking at the weird excuse for an eggplant that she so cleverly sneaked into my doggie bag. (Just kidding, I agreed to take it. There will always be a special place in my heart for misshapen orphaned vegetables that nobody loves!)

Other gifted items included dinner rolls and a chocolate bell pepper. I had herbs and cheese in the house, so my mind jumped straight to bruschette. But because of my husband's tomato handicap, I decided to make two different kinds. And because there were two types of rolls, I ultimately ended up with three different kinds.

I won't bore you with recipes, since I made them all the same way, and there was only slight variation among the ingredients. While pre-roasting the eggplant and bell pepper, I sliced all the dinner rolls (some white, some pumpernickel) thinly and sprinkled on some grated cheese. I used parm for the white ones, mild cheddar for the pumpernickel ones; but I imagine you could do this with an infinite number of different cheeses. Then I used the vegetables and herbs in varying combos and popped each batch into the toaster oven at 350 for five minutes.

Long story short, I ended up with the following combos:

1. White bread, parm, roasted eggplant, roasted bell pepper, herbs

2. White bread, parm, chopped tomatoes, herbs

3. Pumpernickel bread, mild cheddar, roasted eggplant, roasted bell pepper

I tossed the eggplant and bell pepper with olive oil, salt, and black pepper before roasting. In fact, the first bite of eggplant I got was covered in black pepper, and the way my mouth recoiled I thought it might be tannic. After I had chewed a split second longer, I realized this wasn't the case, but I still thought the eggplant might have bred with a hot pepper or something. Eggplants and peppers are in the same family, so considering how ugly the the little guy was before cooking, you can see how I might have jumped to this conclusion. I even went so far as to call my mom and ask if that could have happened, like if she'd planted the eggplants and hot peppers next to one another or something. It took me until my next bite to learn that I just hadn't stirred well enough.

In any case, the rest of the roasted veggies were very enjoyable, if a bit lacking in the black pepper department. My husband and I ate our bruschette with green salads, which made for a welcomed light lunch after a night of stuffing ourselves at the boat parade party.

Off to Harvill's! Got a lot of work to do in the kitchen before a string of Christmases is to commence. I'm grateful to have so many loving family members within a couple hours' drive, but I am able neither to host nor to buy gifts for everyone this year, which means I must contribute a mutant amount of cooking, baking, and canning instead.

Hope to find time to post again soon. After the holidays, stuff should pretty much go back to normal. This means you'll start seeing Chickenless Cooks of the Week again. What interactive activities would you enjoy? Do you guys want to do another TV Dinner or Baffling Ingredient? Would you like to see something new? Let me know!

Beat the eggs. Whip the cream. Show no mercy.

Frittata... WITH MEEEEEEEEEEEEEAT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

If you discovered my blog sometime within the past week, you may have been duped into thinking I'm a vegetarian. Not so. I'm just a pauper who gives a damn what she puts in her mouth, and if I have to sacrifice something to lower my grocery bill, meat it is. I refuse to buy the cheap stuff that comes from inhumane, unsustainable, and unhealthy factory farms.

But when my mom is charitable enough to give me a pack of nitrate-free, hormone-free Applegate Farms turkey bacon, I ain't gonna turn it down.

As a matter of fact, I may have been overzealous with it in this case:

Yup, that's for one frittata. Singular. Bearing in mind that there were two other fatty sources of protein (cheese and eggs) present as well.

But hey, how was I supposed to know turkey bacon doesn't shrink like regular bacon?

On the plus side, I think both my husband and I made ourselves sick enough off it to get through the rest of the week feeling grateful for our chickpeas and red beans.

Here's how to make the same frittata I made. If you're not a card-carrying Atkins dieter, you may want to reduce the amount of bacon. And if you're among those feeling betrayed because you thought I was always going to be here for you with meatless recipes, feel free to throw in some tofu bacon or whatever it is you folks with will power like. (Anyone still confused regarding the name of my blog, please feel free to check out this post.)

Frittata With Turkey Bacon, Watercress, Shallot, & Swiss Cheese

Ingredients

3 eggs

1 Tbsp. plain yogurt or Oikos

1 Tbsp. olive oil

1 shallot, chopped

4 strips turkey bacon, chopped

1 c. watercress, chopped

1/2 c. Swiss cheese, diced

Directions

Heat your broiler.

Beat the eggs and yogurt together in a mixing bowl. Set aside.

In a large pan or skillet with an ovenproof handle, heat the olive oil on medium. Add the shallot and saute two minutes. Add the bacon and saute two minutes more. Add the watercress and saute three to four minutes more, or until the onions are soft and translucent and the bacon is thoroughly browned.

Turn the heat down to medium-low and distribute the cheese throughout the pan.

Stir the egg mixture and pour it over the pan's contents. Tilt the pan around to distribute evenly.

Within a few minutes, you should start to see bubbles all over the frittata. At this point, tilt the pan again to check for doneness. You should be able to see a layer of cooked egg underneath the raw that comes about halfway up your fixins.

Stick the pan under the broiler for two minutes or until it has just begun to brown on top. Remove the pan and immediately plate the frittata to keep the bottom from overcooking. To do this, shove a spatula in at the edge and rotate the pan so that the frittata comes loose (you may have to dig under it a little to free it, especially in spots where there are big hunks of cheese). Position the pan low over the serving platter so that the edge is even with where you want the edge of the frittata to end up. Tilt the pan and shake it gently. When the frittata is about halfway off, you can guide it a little with your spatula to ensure that it doesn't break in half.

Voila!

Serves 4-6 as an appetizer, 2 as a main course.

My husband and I split this for dinner. The watercress shrank a lot more than I thought it was going to, so to round out the meal, we each had some roast eggplant tossed with a handful of basil and a standard Balsamic vinaigrette. This versatile dressing/sauce/marinade is so easy I could make it in my sleep without even taking that creepy medicine that makes you sleepwalk. Just whisk three parts olive oil to one part Balsamic vinegar with a dash of dijon mustard to emulsify.

Now, how is it that a pauper like me can afford fancy-schmancy produce like shallots and The Incredible Shrinking Watercress? I must be quite the hypocrite, huh? Perhaps, but not in this case. I mentioned the other day that, thanks to a tip from a reader, I discovered a great local market in the Orlando/Winter Park area called Harvill's. All the produce I bought earlier this week came from within the state of Florida... and here's the best part:

My total for enough fruit, veggies, and herbs to feed two for a week was TWELVE DOLLARS.

If that sounds pretty standard to you, bear in mind that my husband and I do not eat like normal people. There's no cereal, pretzels, salsa, jars of spaghetti sauce, etc. in our house. When we snack, we snack on fruit and peanuts the way the cavemen did it. When I make a tomato-based sauce, it's from tomatoes and herbs. And I have a salad for lunch pretty much every day. So imagine my elation to spend TWELVE DOLLARS on what normally comprises the vast majority of my grocery bill. TWELVE DOLLARS. I'm just going to keep saying it until I believe it. TWELVE DOLLARS...

On another positive note (TWELVE DOLLARS), I am exceedingly proud of how well my food photography is coming along. I have a secret, which I will reveal to you at some point in the future I'm sure. But for now, here are a few extra shots that I liked and couldn't find anywhere to include in the body of the post:

Drop by tomorrow for a stellar Chickenless Cook of the Week, and start racking your brain about what to do for the TV Dinner challenge.

TWELVE DOLLARS!!

Beat the eggs. Whip the cream. Show no mercy.

Non-Panade

No idea what a panade with no cheese is called. I would have said vegan panade, except that I will never under any circumstance call something vegan in the Chickenless Kitchen. This is out of utmost respect for my vegan friends (those who are chickenless in the most literal sense of the word) having to deal with jackasses like me who go, "Oh, yeah, it's totally vegan," and then it turns out that I was ignorant and large red kidney beans are actually an animal product somehow. Great care and effort goes into that lifestyle, and I'm not about to thwart anyone's attempt at accurate recipe research by overlooking something that I didn't consider because my cold-blooded omnivorous piehole gets stuffed full of it every day.

On that note I present to you a Non-Panade that, if not vegan, can hopefully be made so with a few simple tweaks. In any case, it can be made a number of ways with a number of results. Which is what the Chickenless Kitchen is all about.

Non-Panade

Ingredients

10 asparagus spears

2 Tbsp. olive oil

1 large onion, sliced thin (I used a small yellow one plus two extra slices of red)

1/2 head of garlic, cloves separated and sliced

1/3 c. dry lentils, rinsed and picked over

Salt, slightly more than to taste

5-6 slices any type of day-old bread (or in my case week-old bread), vegan if preferred

1 rooty-tuber-type vegetable, peeled and grated (I used sweet potato, but I imagine a white boiling potato or Yukon Gold would also work)

3 2/3 c. veggie broth

1/3 c. wine (I used a Spanish red that was on the sweet side)

1 1/2 Tbsp. butter or additional olive oil

(Isn't grated sweet potato pretty??)

Directions

Blanch the asparagus spears, then cut them into bite-size pieces.

Heat olive oil in a large saucepan over medium-low. Add the onion, garlic, and asparagus. Stir to coat in oil. Cover and cook for about 17 minutes, or until all are kinda-sorta-mostly soft.

Heat the oven to 350.

Turn the heat up to medium-high under the vegetables and remove cover. Add lentils and salt slightly more than to taste; especially if using a sweet onion, sweet potato, and sweet wine like I did. Saute about 5 minutes more or until the asparagus is soft enough to eat as is. Remove from heat.

Combine wine and broth. Place the mixture over low heat.

Divide each bread slice into 4 pieces. Arrange on a baking sheet and bake in 350 degree oven for 5-6 minutes, or until crispy but still light in color.

Arrange about half the bread pieces on the bottom of an ovenproof dish with an equally-ovenproof lid (I used a round casserole 8" in diameter, which worked perfectly for these ingredient proportions... small wonder, considering I'm the one giving you the recipe). Arrange half the onion mix on top, then follow with half the rooty-tuber-type vegetable. Repeat so that you have two layers of each.

Remember the tea kettle trick from the New Orlexeek Red Beans and Rice post? Aw yeah, here it comes again... transfer the broth to something with a spout, then pour it down the sides of the dish until you see a wine-tinged substance threatening to carry your top layer away in a tidal wave.

Oooohhh, doesn't it look so ominous, lurking down there?

Anyhoo, if you're using butter, cut it up in a bunch of little slabs and distribute it evenly over the top. If you're using olive oil, drizzle it on.

Bake at 350 with cover on for 45 minutes. Continue to bake with cover off for 30 additional minutes. Serves 3 for lunch with a salad; 4 if you're going to have it as a prelude to a big fat roast pheasant; 5 if you're going to have it as a prelude to a big fat roast pheasant with this for dessert... or this... or this. (Props to Salty Seattle, Food o' del Mundo, and Natalie's Killer Cuisine respectively!)

Be sure to bring the serving dish to the table, because if you divvy it up in the kitchen, it just looks like you decided your guests would enjoy a big glob of soggy bread for dinner:

This is a Patented Chickenless Kitchen Rip-Off, based on any number of traditional soups that came before it. Panade is a terrific skeleton to work with, particularly if you are just delving into the world of creating your own recipes. Please feel free to throw your hat into the ring and let me know how your version comes out.

Yesterday I mentioned my plans to do some SOLE-searching (har, har, har). All I can tell you so far is that this Friday's Chickenless Cook of the Week will interest folks who want to eat responsibly despite a hectic schedule. Please stop by and leave a kind word for him if you feel so inclined.

Tomorrow... the oatmeal clafouti recipe goes up! Better late than never (though by now I've built the suspense so much that you're going to make it and think it sucks). My Foodbuzz friends know what I'm talkin' about. For those who don't, here's an instant replay:

TTFN!

Beat the eggs. Whip the cream. Show no mercy.

Kicking Off a Compulsory Vegetarian Week: Lentil and Broccoli Rabe Salad with Honey-Orange Vinaigrette

All right, so it's not compulsory in the literal sense. No one is holding a gun to my head making me go vegetarian this week. But my husband and I agree that if we can't afford that "fancy" free-range, grain-fed meat, we don't want meat at all. It disturbs us to think of the cruelty that goes on in those factory situations.

In any case, there are plenty of fantastic dishes out there centered on eggs (yes, I still bought cage-free eggs... I'm hopeless! We're going to be kicked out and living under the 408 overpass in no time), cheese, beans, and/or legumes. Publix had one lonely bundle of broccoli rabe that needed a home, and since I'd never tried broccoli rabe, I snapped it up, thinking it would go great in a lentil salad I had planned.

Hooray! Success!

For those of you who have never tried it, broccoli rabe is like regular broccoli with a kick. Raw, it tastes bitter. But lightly steamed and then chilled in a sweet garlicky marinade, it adds a mild spice and enhanced green flavor that both my husband and I loved. Liz and Mary at Green Flamingo Organics are growing some as we speak, which is another reason I was curious to try it. Can't wait to get it from them and other local sources later this fall.

Lentil and Broccoli Rabe Salad with Honey-Orange Vinaigrette

Ingredients

Lentil and Broccoli Rabe Salad

1 c. steamed lentils

1 c. cooked brown rice (great use for leftover rice)

1 thick slice red onion, finely chopped or minced

2 carrots, finely chopped or minced

3 c. broccoli rabe, chopped

Honey-Orange Vinaigrette

1/3 c. olive oil

1 1/2 Tbsp. Balsamic vinegar

1 Tbsp. orange juice

2 tsp. holly honey

1 tsp. lemon juice

1 large or 2 small cloves garlic, crushed

1/2 tsp. salt

1/4 tsp. pepper

Directions

Steam the broccoli rabe until just tender (about three minutes in the microwave). Drain, allow to cool, then combine with the rest of the salad ingredients.

In a cup or bowl, add the salt to the vinegar and whisk until well-dissolved. Add the rest of the vinaigrette ingredients and whisk together.

Pour the vinaigrette over the salad ingredients and combine. Cover and refrigerate at least 4 hours to suck the bitterness out of the broccoli rabe and let the garlic do its thang. Serves 4 as a light main dish; not recommended as a an appetizer due to its strong palette-numbing flavor, but use your discretion.

This would also have been super-good with feta cheese and dried cranberries. As far as serving suggestions, my two cents' worth of advice is to pair it with something simple. My husband and I preceded it with hot chicken broth and fresh bread for a well-rounded, seasonally-appropriate meal.

As usual, if you try any variations at home, let me know how it turns out!

Beat the eggs. Whip the cream. Show no mercy.

Arugula Salad With Black-Eyed Peas, Honey Crisp Apples, and Zesty Tomato Dressing

Since I did not make it to the farmers' market over the weekend, I indulged in some non-local goodies at Publix, including the honey crisp apples in this salad. It seems unfair for nature to deny me an iconic food like the apple. But I don't have to scrape ice off my windshield or shovel snow out of my driveway, so let's call it even.

Zesty Tomato Dressing

Ingredients

2 Tbsp. olive oil

1 Tbsp. tomato puree

1 tsp. dijon mustard

1/2 tsp. holly honey

Salt, pepper, and hot sauce to taste

Directions

Combine ingredients and whisk together. Serves 2.

Beat the eggs. Whip the cream. Show no mercy.

Crutch Potluck

Quiche is a crutch food for me. Somewhere along the line I learned that I could make it for any occasion; formal or casual, sit-down or buffet. And then eat it again for breakfast the next morning. And again for lunch. Here are the baby quiches that I made to eat with soup for dinner last night. Isn't that the most ridiculously wussy thing you've ever heard? The laziness must stop here.

I propose a crutch potluck. If you think of an easy, versatile food that you make entirely too often, share it in the comments. This will encourage us to try other peoples' crutches, thereby relying less on our own crutches, thereby eliminating them as crutches, thereby being less wussy. Hooray!

P.S. Oh yeah, the recipe... You know how to make quiche, right? Just use a muffin tin instead. And don't cook it quite as long.

Beat the eggs. Whip the cream. Show no mercy.