SUPERBOWL PARTY ROUND-UP

So the Superbowl’s not until NEXT Sunday, but in case you are as much of a crazy planner as I am , I’ve put together some BJG favorites that would work well as fuel to watch the Saints win by.  WHO DAT?

everything's possible via Etsy

Okay, okay, I understand some people are actually cheering for the Colts, but down here you’d be hard pressed to find one.  Houston took in a quarter-million Hurricane Katrina evacuees; 150,000 of them stayed and now call Texas their home. So we’re all pretty damn jazzed that our sister city finally has something to celebrate.

Of course, Superbowl party food tastes good no matter which team you’re rooting for (heck, it tastes good even if you’re just there to watch the commercials.)

Community tradition in the extended family group went like this: Thanksgiving at the Mehra (our) house, Christmas at the Karkeras’, Ganesh Pooja at Priya Aunty’s house, Diwali Party at Chanchala Aunty’s house, & Superbowl Party at Ashok Uncle & Bina Aunty’s.  This final party was a raucous, ornately ritualed affair: touch football games in the morning, afternoon naps for our Dads during which we kids quietly worked on our team posters, face paint and team colors layered on, giant graphs of squares marked off with a ruler, quarters collected as we all placed bets, televisions stationed in every possible room of the party house, including the bathroom.

A room for AFC fans, a room for NFC fans.  Opposite cheers arising like warring choruses as the game wore on—the room shushing instantly as each new commercial aired—Ashok Uncle & Bina Aunty’s dog Sergeant growing fatter by the minute as he vacuumed up dropped or neglected snacks.  Because, did I fail to mention?  There was always A LOT of food.  And you can, too.

margaritas & guacamole

Chex mix

spicy Buffalo shrimp

hummus

Mexican-style pork tenderloin sandwich

stuffed mushrooms

tortilla rolls

molasses cookies

lemon squares

GRILLED HALLOUMI

What do great cooks, teachers, & writers all have in common?  They’re thieves.

Intellectual borrowers, if you will.  We can’t help it, right?  If your senses are trained within a particular context—to notice flavors, say, or word choice—you are bound to absorb, like a sponge, the methods and ideas all around you.

This is a good thing.  It cracks your life wide open to a world of possible muses; you never know where or when or by whom you’ll be inspired.  As with, for instance, today’s dish.

In graduate school, I didn’t do a lot of eating out.  I was watching my pennies, as most graduate students are, and given that I had lots of time at home for writing, I found myself in the kitchen a great deal, stirring away at a pot of something while simultaneously working out an essay in my head.  However, often it was essential to leave one’s apartment or house for the communal sanctuary of a coffee house or a café with cheap enough fare and an inclination NOT to kick lingering students out.

At one such café on Fourth Avenue, the main drag of Tucson’s university area, I discovered an intriguing sandwich made with grilled halloumi cheese.  For one thing, I had never heard of halloumi before and I sure did like the way it sounded:

Hallooooooumi!
Hallooooooumi!

It’s like a friendly greeting, only it’s actually a type of cheese, made from sheep’s milk in places like Greece & Cyprus (they got a lot of sheep there, far as I can tell).

But here’s the kicker: YOU CAN GRILL IT.  YOU CAN GRILL THE CHEESE.

See?  Yeah, it’s pretty tasty stuff—develops a lovely crust on the outside which gives way to chewy, tangy goodness on the inside.  You can understand how this inspired me, right?

This is what I came up with: naan or pita bread smeared with sweet mango chutney (yes, the jarred kind—let’s keep this simple, folks!), topped with a warm piece of grilled halloumi, garnished with slow-cooked red onions and fresh cilantro.

Sounds fancy, don’t it?  I’ve been serving my newbestfriendforever halloumi at the last few Diwali parties we’ve thrown and it has proven to be a real crowd pleaser, people rushing to their spouses, “You’ve gotta try this!”  It’s festive, unusual, and no one will guess that it wasn’t actually that hard to make.

GRILLED HALLOUMI

Halloumi’s becoming more and more popular, however it still isn’t carried by most “mainstream” grocers.  Check Whole Foods or another specialty store, the safest bet being a Middle Eastern purveyor.

The flavors of this appetizer will also work for a light dinner or lunch—just sandwich bigger pieces of cheese inside a pita or wrap them up with fresh naan.  Be sure to throw in the onions, cilantro, & chutney, too!

ingredients:

naan or pita bread
1 package halloumi, drained & patted dry
1 red onion
1 jar sweet mango chutney
cilantro
olive oil
butter

do ahead:

Caramelize the onions.  First, peel the onion & slice it thinly.  In a very heavy pot fitted with a lid, heat 1 T butter & 2 T olive oil over medium heat.  Sauté the onions gently until they become translucent, then turn the heat down to low.

Cook for about forty minutes with the lid on, stirring regularly until the onions are brown, almost disintegrated, like an onion marmalade.

assemble:

If you’d like to go the super-fancy route, make rounds from your bread using a biscuit or cookie cutter.  If there’s no need to be super-fancy, just cut the bread into about 2-inch wedges.  Slather a generous amount of chutney on each piece of bread.

Heat a grill pan over medium-high, coat with olive oil.  If you don’t have a grill pan, don’t worry, the halloumi will taste just as good, but it won’t have fancy grill-marks, and those are kind of fun.

Slice the halloumi a half-inch thick.  When your pan is quite hot (but not smoking!), grill the cheese in batches, cooking until golden brown on both sides, between 8-10 minutes total.

The halloumi is best when it’s at least warm, if not hot, so cut the pieces carefully to fit on your bread.  If you’re doing this process in anticipation of a slew of guests, you can keep the grilled halloumi warm in a low oven.  Don’t leave it too long, though!  It tastes much better freshly cooked.

Place a piece of halloumi on top of each bread round or wedge.  Top with a teaspoon-sized heap of caramelized onion, then garnish with fresh cilantro.

FEELIN’ KINDA SUNDAY: MARINATED CHEESE

This blog post is very late, but there are two good reasons why: the opera & Dolly.

Jill and I just came home from witnessing a marathon performance of Wagner’s Lohengrin which was, unlike many things my students use the descriptor “epic” for, actually EPIC.  Mysterious heroes, accusations of murder, true love, witchcraft, war, revenge, heartbreak, you name it, it’s in there.

I went to the opera for the first time as a high school senior—why, I actually can’t remember (the two competing stories are: won tickets in a raffle or went to fulfill a performance-viewing requirement for my Humanities class), but seeing La Traviata is something I will never forget.  From that night on, I was hooked.

Opera’s appeal is lost on many.  Especially in a culture that places an inordinate emphasis on art needing to reflect “reality” and blurring the boundaries between those two things, the suspension of disbelief that opera requires can feel like too big of a gap to bridge.

But here’s the thing: it turns out human beings still need a grand gesture every once in a while.  We need to get lost in something, to virtually drown in a darkened theatre, cozied up to by the swell of strings, the shatter of voices, the collective gasp of the audience when we realize that the lovers before us are doomed.  We like being made to feel big, ridiculous emotions even though it’s passé to articulate those things anymore.

Our most intimate concerns on the grandest of stages.  Performances that transcend what most of our bodies can and can’t do.  Myth over reality.  Sometimes I think we need a dose of that, and I’m very grateful I was able to get it tonight.

And to come home to this:

Say hello to Dolly, our new girl.  She is an old rat terrier whom we adopted via Ratbone Rescues (THE NICEST people) and flew down from Portland just yesterday.  Can I just tell you, this dog was meant to live with us?  I’ve never met a sweetier lap dog who is, at the same time, obsessed with her squeaky toy and impossible to beat in tug-of-war.  Last night she slept under the covers in our bed and cuddled up to me this morning, making it nearly impossible to get up and go to work.  I’m in love.

Needless to say, we’ve been a bit all over the place the last few days, but rest assured I have a wonderful recipe for you today, elegant enough for the opera and also Dolly-friendly (she’s a terrible beggar for cheese).

MARINATED CHEESE

This appetizer looks much more labor-intensive than it actually is, making it ideal for dinner parties or the holidays.  Of course, you can make as much or as little as you like, so don’t rule it out as an “at home” dish, either.

If you celebrate Christmas, you can make this dish especially festive by adding chopped red pimentos to complement the green onions.

marinade ingredients:

½ cup olive oil
½ cup white wine vinegar*
¼ cup fresh parsley, chopped
¼ cup chopped green onions (scallions)
2 cloves garlic, minced
salt & pepper

optional: 1 tsp. lemon zest

cheese:

Any mild-flavored cheese will work, but I like the combinations of white & yellow cheddars or yellow cheddar with cream cheese.  If you’re using cream cheese, it becomes much easier to cut if you throw it in the freezer for a few minutes.

Cut the cheeses into slices (taking into account the size of the cracker you’ll be serving it with).  Arrange the cheese in a shallow dish, alternating the colors or arranging them into a design of your choice.

Place all marinade ingredients in a jar, tighten the lid, & shake vigorously.  Pour the marinade over the cheese, cover the dish with plastic wrap & refrigerate for at least an hour, up to 6.  Serve with crackers—we’re really loving this brand right now.

*If you can splurge on a higher-end bottle, do.

FEELIN’ KINDA SUNDAY: STUFFED MUSHROOMS

This is one of those “back pocket” recipes; an easy-to-make, hard-to-mess-up crowd-pleaser you keep on hand and whip out when you need something tried and true.  Oh stuffed mushrooms, you have never failed me:

Mushrooms are an ingredient I tend to buy more of as the weather cools.  Their rich earthiness  seems right, somehow, for fall.  I’ve made these junior stuffed mushrooms many times, for dinner parties, Thanksgiving, and football Sundays, of course.

The best thing about ‘em?  You can pre-make everything ahead of time, leaving the stuffed mushrooms on a foil-covered broiler pan in the fridge until ready to bake off.  They’re also relatively cheap to make (especially if you go vegetarian) and still work with all kinds of variations: use couscous instead of breadcrumbs, add in sautéed peppers for a kick, substitute green onions for regular ones.

Though the little ones are most fun for a party or get-together, stuffed portabellas are wonderful for a weeknight dinner, since you can prep them the night before.  One of my favorite stuffings for big ‘shrooms: chorizo, wild rice, celery, & bell pepper.

At the moment, I’ve got a lot in my back pocket (both literally & figuratively):

-stewing over logo designs (!) for the new-and-improved BJG website I hope to debut in early 2010…printable recipes?  You asked for them, you’ll get them!

-joyous celebration that a cold-ish front seems to finally be coming through Texas

-a final grocery list to attend to, along with a million details and “to-dos” before 45 (count them, forty-five) people descend on our house tomorrow night for the annual Carroll/Mehra Diwali Party!

I hope to share a lot more about the party with you next week; our amazing photographer Sonya will be here, documenting every dish and celebratory moment. Look for lots of photographs, details, & a recipe or two on Tuesday.

We are excited, busy, and hopeful that it will not rain.  Most importantly, I feel grateful to have the resources and time to gather the people I love around me and feed them large quantities of food.

I’ll catch ya’ll on the flip side!  In the meantime, enjoy your weekend.

STUFFED MUSHROOMS
The recipe here allows you to make both vegetarian and non-vegetarian versions in the same batch.  If you want to do meaty mushrooms only, go ahead and cook the sausage with the onions & stems.

ingredients:

2 packages white mushrooms, cleaned
1 white onion, chopped finely
1-2 cloves garlic, minced
½ cup plain breadcrumbs, store-bought or homemade
grated cheese of your choice (Parmesan, cheddar, Italian mix)
herbs de Provence
butter
olive oil

optional: one link of a sausage of your choice (I used mild Italian)

Remove stems from the mushrooms, reserving a little less than half.  Trim & chop the stems finely, adding them to the onions & garlic.

In a heavy-bottomed skillet, combine 3 T each of the butter & olive oil.  Let sit over medium heat until the butter is foamy, then add the chopped vegetables.

Sauté the mixture until translucent, then remove from heat and toss in the breadcrumbs.  Combine the mixture so the breadcrumbs are “wet.”

Fold in about a ¼ cup of cheese.  Season with 1 tsp herbs de Provence, then stop to taste for flavor & salt, making adjustments if needed.

In a separate pan, crumble and brown the sausage.  Reserve it for later—after you’ve stuffed the vegetarian mushrooms, mix the sausage into the remaining filling and stuff the other half.

Place the mushrooms on a broiler pan or baking sheet.  Stuff each mushroom with a small spoonful of filling (of course, bigger mushrooms will take more), mounding the filling just a bit at the top.

At this point, you can cover the mushrooms with foil and stash in the oven.  When ready to serve, preheat the oven to 350°.

Bake the mushrooms for 12-15 minutes until cooked through.  If you’d like a little crunch, you can turn on the broiler for just a minute or two, but watch the mushrooms carefully!

Serve warm.

//

FEELIN’ KINDA SUNDAY: ONION RINGS

My mother, she’s a very wise woman.  When I was still rather young, she impressed on me the importance of my someday finding a partner who loved onions (and garlic) as much as I did.  “Otherwise, they won’t want to kiss you.”*

You see, I love onions.  I love them raw, I love them sautéed, I love them caramelized, baked, roasted, fried, pickled…well, you get the picture.  In all of their pungent, tear-inducing, breath-polluting glory, onions hold a prominent place in my culinary heart.

Growing up in an Indian household, as I did, onions (or piaj) were a regular feature on the table, raw and sliced thinly as an accompaniment to rice, daal (lentils), dahi (yogurt), and kheera (cucumber).  I learned to love the wet bite of onion as a foil for spicy, complex dishes, a way to slice through grease and access the tastebuds.

Quickly, I started eating my piaj with a lot of other, non-Indian things: pizza, hamburgers, turkey sandwiches, grilled cheese.  I know.  Some of you are out there gagging (like blog photographer Sonya, who is no fan of the raw onion), but hopefully even the biggest onion-skeptic can appreciate these:

Behold the onion ring, a thing of beauty!  It comes in many variations (shoe-string, tempura-battered, jumbo-sized, etc.) but like most fried stuff, even a bad onion ring is a tempting one.

I’ve been an onion ring connoisseur for a long time, often preferring them (gasp!) to French fries when eating out, but had never tried to make them on my own until a few months ago.  Needless to say, in a household where I am lucky to have met & settled down with a fellow-onion-lover*, they were a hit.

Jill proclaimed them the best onion rings she’d ever eaten.  And girlfriend’s from Louisiana, so she knows her fried foods.  These are, I admit, a little bit labor-intensive.  But hot damn!, they are worth it.

ONION RINGS

These rings, as you can see, do not sport a heavy jacket of batter.  Rather, they’re lightly coated and extremely crisp.  I use a three-layer breading: flour first, then buttermilk, then cornmeal/breadcrumbs.  The secret is using one hand for the buttermilk step and the other hand for the last step.  If you don’t, things will become gummy realllll fast.  Be sure to have everything set up before you begin!

ingredients:

1-2 red onions (more if you’re feeling extra-ambitious)
flour
buttermilk or regular milk
yellow cornmeal
Panko breadcrumbs (look for them in Asian/Japanese aisle)
Tony’s or another all-purpose seasoning
Salt & pepper

A fair amount of Canola or peanut oil

Pour oil into a deep, heavy-bottomed pot until it reaches 2-3 inches up the sides.  Heat on medium high while prepping the onions.

Peel the onions and cut off the ends, discarding.  Slice carefully into thin (¼-inch) rounds.  Separate out into individual rings, then place in a large Ziploc bag.

Dump between ½ – 1 cup of flour in the bag, depending on your quantity of rings.  Season lightly with salt & pepper.

You’ll need two wide and shallow bowls.  In one, pour in the (butter)milk.  In another, mix equal amounts of cornmeal and breadcrumbs.  Add 1 tsp. of Tony’s seasoning and stir to distribute evenly.

Now, for a trick: drizzle a small amount of buttermilk into the cornmeal/breadcrumb mixture, then rake through it all with a fork.  This will create small clumps which, when fried, will equal extra-crunchy goodness.

Part One: seal the Ziploc bag with the onions and flour inside, then shake the heck out of it, coating all of the rings.

Part Two: Transfer between 4-5 rings (depending upon the size of your bowls) to the buttermilk mixture.  Muddle them around with your LEFT HAND to get them wet.

Part Three: Transfer the same rings into the cornmeal/breadcrumb mixture.  Press down with your RIGHT hand to coat one side, tossing some of the mixture up and around to all sides.  Don’t worry if the rings aren’t totally coated.

Part Four: Fry away!  Your oil should be hot and shimmery at this point, not smoking.  (Remove from the burner to cool if it is.)  Test your oil with a single ring—the oil should immediately bubble around it.

Add a small handful of rings when the oil is ready, keeping an eye on the heat.  If the onions brown too quickly, turn the heat down.  After a few batches, though, you may very well need to turn the heat up to compensate for loss of heat.

Fry the onion rings in batches, approximately 2 minutes on each side.  Transfer to a paper towel-lined plate and serve hot.  They’re excellent plain, but also go nicely with ketchup, Sriacha, aioli, ranch, etc.

FEELIN’ KINDA SUNDAY: TORTILLA ROLLS

My apologies, dear reader.  I am so very behind.

My commitment is to blog every Tuesday and Friday, but today I find myself running rather late: to post this, to meet friends for drinks, to clean up my house before company comes.  It’s been a heckuvaweek for this tired teacher, but I feel encouraged knowing that I can present you with these:

My mom’s famous tortilla rolls, adapted by yours truly.  When you read over the ingredient list, you may think “Uh, that sounds weird.”  But rest assured, they are CRAZY DELICIOUS.  Never a one left behind.

These are infinitely adaptable (olives? ham? fresh herbs?) and perfect for football watching.  It’s just so satisfying to dunk things, like fries into ketchup, chicken nuggets into honey mustard, tortilla rolls into salsa.

Since I work in a Jewish school and we’re off Monday for Yom Kippur, day of atonement, consider my tortilla rolls an offering of repentance.  Once you try them, I bet I’ll be forgiven.

PS: We’re reading Fahrenheit 451 in class right now, Ray Bradbury’s classic vision of a futuristic, television-addicted society in which books have been banned to protect citizens from the “danger” of ideas.

As part of our fantastic class discussions, students have been batting around the idea of banned books and the power of reading, how society controls and shares information, etc.  So, we’re curious: what book has had the biggest influence on you, made an impact, changed you in some way, made you think? It can be from middle/high school, college, or more recently.  Any book works!  We’re compiling a list and would love to add yours.

TORTILLA ROLLS

Buy the freshest tortillas you can; they’ll be softer and more pliable, thereby rolling easier.  If you’ve never bought corn relish before (and really, why would you have?), grocery stores tend to stock it in one of two places: with the marinated artichoke hearts or with the olives, usually on the highest shelf.  You won’t need the whole jar, but fear not, the stuff will keep forever in the fridge.

ingredients:

8 oz. cream cheese, softened (use reduced fat if you wish)
½ cup chopped pecans
1/3 cup corn relish
1 tsp. garlic powder
1 tsp. dried parsley (if using fresh, increase to 1 T)
fresh flour tortillas

accompaniments: salsa of your choice

Combine the first five ingredients in a small bowl, blending thoroughly (you can easily do this a day or two ahead).  Smear a large spoonful or two of the mixture onto a tortilla, spreading thinly and leaving a border around the edge.  Roll up the tortilla tightly; place on a platter.

Repeat until all of the cream cheese mixture is gone.  Cover the plate of tortillas with plastic wrap and refrigerate for about 10-15 minutes to firm them up, making them easier to cut.  You can also leave them longer like this, just make sure they are covered well.

When it’s time, slice each tortilla roll-up into half-inch rounds with a sharp serrated knife.  Re-arrange on the platter and serve with a bowl of salsa.

FEELIN’ KINDA SUNDAY: A FOOTBALL-INSPIRED SERIES

Stephanie had an African-American father and a Puerto-Rican mother, and taught me how to make tostones, twice-fried, salty plantains. By luck of the subletting draw, I was her roommate for six weeks one summer in D.C., and I still remember her frying up a storm in our tiny Columbia Heights kitchen.  I stood with Jill, who was visiting for July fourth, over a paper-towel lined plate, waiting eagerly for the next finished batch and crowding our good-natured cook.

Plantains had never been presented to me this way before, with a crust of toothy resistance on the outside and smooth goodness on the inside.  Though I lost touch with Stephanie soon after my sublet was up, I still make tostones the way I learned from her—frying once, then smashing each slice inside a Ziploc bag with the back of a water glass before returning it to the hot oil a second time.  A generous sprinkling of salt, and there is arguably no better accompaniment for a cold beer on a hot day.

Is anything more universally satisfying than fried food?  Is there a single human culture that has yet to discover the joys of dropping, well, just about anything into a pot of scalding-hot oil?  The French, of course, have given us their pommes frites, our beloved fries.  Japan is the home of everything tempura-battered, and samosas are now ubiquitous at Indian restaurants.  Italians perfected the art of frying baby artichokes and succulent rings of calamari, and Southern fried chicken is a near-universal craving.  As my mother in one of her cruder moments put it, you could probably fry shit and it would taste good.

I must make a confession.  I’ve become one of *those* people.  Those people who structure their entire fall around a televised game schedule, who politely decline invitations that conflict with home games, who scream and yell for a bunch of guys running around on a well-tended field of turf.  I’ve crossed over to the dark side now.  I’m officially a football fan.

My father did his best to cultivate my appreciation for the sport when I was younger, so I at least had a basic sense for how to watch the game.  But football never “clicked” with me until last year. Jill and Sonya, who have long been avid fans of the game, played fantasy football for the first time.  And when I say played, I mean became obsessed with.  While their team, the Junky Cowboys (not a comment on the state of Dallas’ team, rather an inside joke resulting from confusion over the band name, Cowboy Junkies) didn’t win the league championship (still a sore subject), fantasy football became the vehicle through which I learned to love football.

It’s a famous joke that football is the most widely-practiced religion down here in Texas—I think that’s probably true.  We have our rituals, our superstitions, our weekly gatherings, a shared sense of purpose, and our foods.  On Sunday around noon, while Jill and Sonya are obsessing over stats and lineups, I’m usually messing around in the kitchen, whipping up something to snack on over the course of the afternoon.  All of that screaming at the TV works up an appetite, you know.

So the Feelin’ Kinda Sunday Series will feature various football snacks, from the savory to the sweet, that have been met with success in my NFL-happy household.  Every Friday from now until the Super Bowl, I’ll share recipes that will translate easily to the weekend.  Even if your house is not a football house, I think you’ll be able to find a place for these goodies.  As always, we’ll feature a random-but-seasonally-appropriate smattering of posts on Tuesdays–coming up next week, Part II of Anders Wine Tasting Basics & some really, really good cookies.

In the meantime, I’m curious, Blue Jean Gourmet readers, are you into football?  And what’s your favorite thing to eat fried?

TOSTONES (twice-fried, salty plantains)

These are Sonya’s absolute favorites; I try to make them regularly so as to keep bribing her into taking gorgeous pictures for me!  While a bit time-consuming to make, tostones are totally worth it.  If you are not using to frying things at home, don’t be intimidated–these don’t require all that much oil, and are pretty forgiving.  While they’re lovely plain, we also L-O-V-E them dipped in guacamole.

Plantains are part of the banana family, but contain much more starch, like a potato.  If the idea of a fried banana wigs you out, don’t worry, I feel you.  These taste far milder and fry up beautifully–a perfect crunch on the outside, with a creamy give on the inside.  Look for plantains that are ripe (yellow with a few brown spots) but still firm.

ingredients:

2-3 plantains

canola or a similarly-flavorless vegetable oil

salt

To peel the plantains, slice off both ends with a sharp knife.  Then run your knife down the length of each plantain (don’t cut too deep!), front and back.  Remove the peel.  Cut each plantain into thick slices, about ½ inch thick.  Genly press the slices between paper towels  to remove excess moisture.

Cover the bottom of a heavy skillet with a shallow (¼ inch) pool of oil.  Heat on medium-high until the oil is shimmering–test it with a plantain–if the oil immediately bubbles around the slice, it’s ready.  You may need to adjust the temperature of the oil as you go, if your plantains are taking too long or, conversely, getting too brown.

Fry the plantains in batches until they are light brown, about 2 minutes on each side.  Remove to a paper-towel lined plate while finishing.  Turn the heat down on the oil while you smash the plantains.  To smash, simply place each plantain (you can do a few at a time) inside a Ziploc bag and smush with the bottom of a heavy glass.

Once all of the plantains have been smashed, re-heat your oil for a second frying.  Because the second round of plantains will be thinner, I recommend you heat your oil a bit less–say, if your stove was at a “7” the first time around, turn it down to a “5.”

Fry the plantains, once again in batches, until golden brown.  Serve hot, sprinkled with coarse salt.

BRIE-STUFFED APRICOTS

School started this week, and I’m afraid I can’t really hold a coherent thought in my head at this moment.  Therefore, this has become the post of miscellany.

Observe:

a)    Each year, I create a “Word Tree” with my students on the back wall of my room.  Students are asked to choose words in any language that appeal to them because of what they mean or how they sound.  In past years, I have had words in Hebrew, Hindi, Spanish, Polish, Latin, German, & Portuguese—and English words ranging from “indignant” to “giggly” to “ineluctable” to “satiate.”  My students always manage to impress me and get themselves excited about words, which is pretty cool, no?

Since I always ask my colleagues, friends, and family to contribute words to the word tree, I’d like, this year, to ask you, lovely blog readers, to throw out some of your favorite words.  Remember, any word, any language, because you love what it means or how it sounds.  Share away!  I’ll add you to the tree next week.

b)     Speaking of words, I’m obsessed with the Online Etymology Dictionary.  It’s been fun for my students and me to discover where words come from, like “miscellany,” which comes from the Latin miscere, meaning “to mix,” and “lollapalooza,” descending from lallapalootza in an unspecified American Indian language, meaning “remarkable person or thing.” (One of my students totally brought this word in; have I mentioned I love my students?)

c)    There’s a very cool jewelry artist here in Houston named Melissa Borrell who makes really lovely, unusual pendants, earrings, and other decorative works.  The thing is, she’s not going to be in Houston long and her moving means there are a bunch of fantastic pieces on sale.

d)    Next week, our super-cute-and-knowledgeable sommelier returns with a post on Wine Tasting Basics!

e)    I have three, long, hand-written letters from three fantastic friends to respond to this weekend.  Damn, I’m a lucky girl.

f)    You never thought I’d get to the food, did you?  Well, it’s a little bit miscellaneous, too.  The inspiration came from one of the many receptions/dinners/galas that we have been to in the last handful of years on account of Jill’s work.  Some are really fun, some are really boring, but since I always enjoy getting dressed up and eating free food, I’m a pretty easy spouse to drag to said events.

At some point, I filed this idea away in my brain; the original was stuffed with cream cheese, but I thought surely we could get a little bit more exciting?  I tested brie-stuffed and mascarpone-stuffed versions on a crowd a few weekends ago, and the brie was the clear favorite, though there was a minority of guests who are not stinky-cheese fans and therefore found the mascarpone more palatable.  You should know, though, that all of the little apricots disappeared in a flash; I had to pry them away so they could be photographed!

I think these would be lovely as part of an hors d’oeuvres spread, or with a cheese course or dessert assortment or just simply paired with a bottle of crisp white to start a meal.  Probably you fine people out there have further ideas for cheeses that would work, so feel free to leave suggestions along with your Word Tree Words—ooh!  We could have a whole “cheese” section of the tree!  Havarti and Jarlsberg and Chevre all hanging together in perfect harmony.

See how my brain is wired for miscellany these days?  I’m off to teach some renegade eighth graders, and in the meantime I leave you with a very elegant but simple-to-assemble canapé which I hope will serve you well.

BRIE-STUFFED APRICOTS

jumbo dried apricots (test these for springy-ness before buying; overly dry fruit will not stuff well)

small wedge Brie cheese, softened at room temp

good-quality honey

toasted almonds, thinly sliced

Using a small, sharp paring knife, slit the apricot around its curve, working the knife into the meat of the fruit to form a pocket.  Be careful not to cut all the way around, just about a half-moon shape is enough.  Repeat with desired number of apricots—I think I did twenty-four.

Use a small spoon (my grapefruit spoon worked well) to stuff about a ½ tsp of Brie into each apricot.  Don’t worry if a little bit is showing, I think it’s nice to give diners an idea of what they’re eating and the two colors look lovely in contrast.

Drizzle the platter of apricots with a gentle rain of honey, either squeezing from the bottle or warming a bit in the microwave and then zig-zagging a spoonful over the fruit.

Dot the top of each apricot with an almond slice.  And I’ve gotta quote Julia here, ubiquitous as she may be it’s for a reason, Bon Appétit!

SUMMER CLASSICS SERIES: BLACK BEAN SALSA

Before I do anything else, allow me to show you a magic trick.

Ladies and Gentlemen, right here before your very eyes—one bunch of cilantro, ends trimmed, placed upright in a glass with a bit of cold water.  Doesn’t look like much, you say?  Not very impressive, you say?

Well.  Little do you know!  Arranged this way & covered with the very plastic bag it came home in, I can keep cilantro fresh & useable for a month!  I am not exaggerating!  It IS magic—I love cooking with cilantro (obviously, I am not one of those people for whom it tastes like soap) but I hated having to throw it away after it became wilted & spoiled too quickly.

No longer, my friends!  We can all thank my dear friend Arianne’s mom Georgia (yes, she is as awesome as her name) for this tidbit.

Now, onto the recipe at hand…I love black beans.  They’re cheap.  They’re yummy.  They’re versatile.  AND, they’re good for you.  You can’t say that about everything in my pantry, I assure you.

Make this dish, please.  Make it now.  In fact, you have to make it now because the reason it tastes so darn good is when you take fresh, sweet corn, add smelling-of-sun summer tomatoes & ripe avocados, can you really go wrong?

No, I didn’t think so.

This little concoction is great for a potluck/casual party, or just for dinner.  It tastes just as good the next day, with the exception of the avocadoes, which turn an unappetizing, slimy brown.  Ew.

So if you’re planning for a big crowd, make this as-is—there won’t be any left, I promise.  But if you’re making for a smaller crew / want to take some for lunch later in the week / need to mix this ahead of time, I recommend combining everything BUT the avocadoes first.

Then, reserve whatever portion you’d like to have for later & store it in the fridge until you’re ready to add avocadoes & eat up!  I like this dish a little more towards room temperature than cold, so you might want to take it out a bit before you plan to serve.

(If I may be so presumptuous as to suggest—it’s real, real good with blue corn tortilla chips.  I’m especially partial to Garden of Eatin’.)

BLACK BEAN SALSA

2 cans black beans (plain, no flavoring or added salt)

3 of the prettiest tomatoes you can find

3 ripe avocados

2-3 ears fresh corn

2 limes

a handful of fresh cilantro, roughly chopped

1 tsp. cumin

1 tsp. salt

optional: half a jalapeño, seeded & minced

Drain & rinse the black beans in a colander—shake well to rid of all liquid.  Shuck the corn & cut the kernels off into a large mixing bowl.  Add the black beans to the corn, then cube the tomatoes and add them as well.

Add the juice of both limes, cumin, salt, & jalapeño, if using .  Stir everything together & sprinkle in cilantro.  If serving immediately, add cubed avocados & fold gently.  Taste & add salt if needed.

Serve with chips or as a side.  Also excellent with grilled fish or meats.

BLUE JEAN GOURMET IS BORN!

Salud! L’Chaim! Cheers! 

Welcome, welcome, welcome—whether you are an avid foodie, beginning cook, food-blog enthusiast, or just here for the pretty pictures, I hope you’ll find Blue Jean Gourmet to be a fun, un-intimidating resource for really good food and straightforward kitchen advice.  Please make yourself at home.

We’re launching today on Cinco de Mayo–I can’t think of a better occasion!  What other holiday gives me an excuse (not like I need one) to whip up a batch of guacamole and a blender-full of margaritas?  I’m so excited to share these two recipes with you as they are the perfect encapsulation of what the Blue Jean Gourmet philosophy is all about: really good food does not have to be really fussy.  Both of these recipes are a cinch to make with quality ingredients and a little practice.  Sure, pre-prepared guacamole and bottled margarita mix are readily available, but neither can hold a candle to their homemade counterparts.   You’ll wow everyone (including yourself) and never go back to the packaged stuff.

I also love these recipes because they literally tell the story of how I ended up here in the first place.  You see, long ago my newlywed parents worked at a Pancho’s Mexican Restaurant in Memphis, Tennessee.  My father was the manager, my mom a bartender–I really love the fact that my Indian immigrant mother used to tend bar in a Mexican restaurant in the deep South–only in America, right?

Mom’s good looks earned her many tips and opportunities to hone her margarita-making skills, and my father continued to work for Pancho’s for many years, cementing my family’s love affair with all things Tex-Mex.  When I make my own version of these recipes now, I feel I have earned my place in my family’s rich, weird culinary history.

Since Blue Jean Gourmet is just now making its way into the web-world, please check back periodically for added features and new posts.  You can also follow BJG on Twitter, become a BJG fan on Facebook, or use good-old-fashioned email to contact the Blue Jean Gourmet herself (that’s me!): bluejeangourmet (at) gmail (dot) com.  I’d love to have your thoughts and feedback: is there a food item you would like to see featured?  Cooking technique you want to master?  Let me know and I will do my best to help you out.

In the meantime, invite some friends over and give these recipes a whirl.  You can make Cinco de Mayo last all week!

MEMPHIS MARGARITAS

Makes 4 generous servings, doubles well!

8 oz (1 cup) fresh-squeezed lime juice (trust me, it’s worth the trouble)
juice of 1 orange
1/2 cup tequila (the better the quality, the better the margarita)
1/4 cup Cointreau or other orange liquor (Triple Sec, Grand Marnier)
2 T Minute Maid frozen limeade (more if you prefer a sweeter drink)*

Frozen margaritas–Fill a blender with 3 cups of ice.  Pour in liquid ingredients; blend, serve.
Margaritas on the rocks–Stir liquid ingredients together in a pitcher; serve over ice.
To salt glasses–Rub the rim of an empty glass with a lime wedge.  Pour 2 T kosher salt (looks pretty, but regular will do just fine) onto a small plate.  Turn glass upside down and, using a rocking motion, dip the rim in salt, rotating to coat the entire rim.

IT’S HANDY: Leftover margarita mix keeps perfectly well in a tightly-sealed jar in the fridge.  Cocktails at a moment’s notice!

* This is my mom’s genius secret ingredient–it’s cheap, keeps forever in the fridge, & saves you from having to make simple syrup.

GUACAMOLE

3 ripe avocados*
juice of 1 lime
2 small cloves or 1 large clove garlic (less if you aren’t a fanatic like me)
1/4 cup red onion, finely chopped
1 tsp jalapeño, finely chopped (optional)
salt
1/4 cup cilantro, chopped

First, sprinkle the garlic with a generous pinch of salt.  Using a knife with a wide blade, chop the garlic with the salt at an angle, making a kind of paste–mince the garlic, then smush it with the back of the knife, go back to mincing, etc.

Transfer the garlic/salt paste to a bowl with the onion, jalapeño (if using), and lime juice.  Muddle these ingredients together with a fork.  Next, halve the avocados, removing the seeds and scooping out the flesh with a spoon.  Add the avocados to the lime juice mixture and smash the halves with the back of a fork until the desired texture is reached (I like mine a little chunky).

Unless you are one of those people who think cilantro tastes like soap (and if you are, I feel sad for you), garnish with the chopped cilantro, stirring a bit of it into the mix.   Serve with blue or white corn tortilla chips.

* Okay, avocados.  Sometimes people are intimidated by them, but there’s no need!  I can offer two tricks:
1) Only buy the little, dark, bumpy Haas avocados, if you can get them.  You want fruit that gives a bit when you give it a squeeze–no mushy spots!

2) Ripen them at home on the counter using a paper bag & an apple or a banana.  Apparently, apples and bananas naturally give off gasses which conveniently help avocados to ripen.  I promise, this trick works.  Enjoy!