Thai-Style Curried Shrimp in Coconut Milk Broth

The outstanding thing about this delicate and tasty curried shrimp dish is that all the ingredients can be from your cupboard or freezer or frig stock, there to put together at a moment’s notice. Fermented fish sauce plays a key role. The Thai version (nam pla) in particular has recently become a darling of Western restaurant chefs, and home cooks can now routinely find it in supermarkets. Serves 4

1/ 3 cup dried unsweetened coconut flakes

1 1/ 2 tablespoons peanut or canola oil

1 teaspoon coriander seeds

1 large clove garlic, finely chopped

Whitefish Fillets Poached in Chardonnay Broth with Leeks, Carrots, and Bread Toasts

Hearty, meaty whitefish, such as sea bass, halibut, cod, can benefit from a little glamor, dressing up, when they come to the table. Julienne strips of carrot and leek, sprightly green celery leaves provide and enrich a simple Chardonnay wine broth that’s perfect for sopping with the crunchy toasts. It’s a perfect dish for fitting into the winter holiday hubbub when you want to serve something special with no hassle.

A note to my readers: I’m still here, but have been laid up with a back injury for the last 7 weeks. One of those setbacks that will get get better, but is taking a while to heal, hence, the long interval since my last and this post. More to come in the New Year!

Serves 4

Eight 3/4-inch thick diagonal baguette slices, slicked with olive oil on both sides, and toasted until lightly golden

Four 6-0unce white fish fillets each 3/4-inch thick, such as cod, halibut, sea bass

4 cups filtered water

1/2 cup Chardonnay wine

2 tablespoons white balsamic or champagne vinegar

1 small bay leaf, preferably fresh

1/4 teaspoon dried tarragon

1 teaspoon kosher salt

1/2 teaspoon cracked black, preferably freshly cracked

1 large carrot, peeled and julienned

1 medium leek, including light green part, trimmed, slivered lengthwise, and rinsed to remove dirt debris

2 tablespoons celery leaves, for garnish

1. Make the bread toasts and set them aside.

2. Combine the water, wine, carrots, leek, tarragon, bay leaf, salt, and pepper in a large saute pan and bring to a boil over high heat. Decrease the heat to medium-low, cover, and cook until the vegetables are al dente, 6 to 8 minutes.

3. Add the fish, bring to a simmer, cover, and cook until the fish flakes easily when prodded with a fork, about 6 minutes.

4. Transfer each fillet to an individual wide bowl or deep plate . Ladle the broth and vegetables over the top. Garnish with the celery leaves and croutons and serve.

Mussels Alive, Alive, O!

Mussel beds at minus low tide off the northern California coast. It's stock footage, but just as my eye saw it whenever I was there.

When I first came to live in northern California in 1962 as a freshman at UC Berkeley, I never expected to find myself foraging for mussels in the rocky tide pools along the northern California coast. Then one day, a new found friend suggested we go mussel “hunting.” There would be a minus 2 tide at 8:30 a.m., revealing the mussel-populated rocks above water. We set off at 6:30 a.m. for the 2 hour  journey there, a convenient time for foragers who

Fuji Apple, Celery, and Cabbage Slaw

One day recently at my farmers’ market, an Asian vendor, a German woman, and I found ourselves  together in a three-way conversation about celery tops. The German woman had previously asked the vendor to please don’t cut off the tops of your celery; “they’re good for soups and seasoning,” she said. The vendor had accommodated and her celery stalks sported beautiful leaves at the top of each rib. I bought a stalk, cut the tops off, and  displayed them in a glass vase with a little water in the bottom. It was October, and the Fuji apple tree in the backyard was heavy laden. When the celery tops were beginning to droop, I brought them to the kitchen and put them together with the Fujis amd some cabbage in a variation on the theme of cabbage

Quinoa and Fried Egg Burrito with Ancho Chili Sauce

Young quinoa stalks with seeds spilling out.

Seduced by a tiny potted quinoa plant at my local nursery, its two slim stalks bursting with  edible seeds, I was smitten enough to purchase it, ignoring the fact that quinoa is native to the high Peruvian Andes Mountains, 10,000 feet above sea level.   I brought it home and planted it in my not-very-high above sea level garden, just to see what would happen. Not much did. It withered and drooped and clearly wasn’t happy here. Yet both limp stalks were releasing seeds of sustenance. I asked Rick to capture their nascent wholesomeness in a photo. Alas, the plant didn’t survive. But, in a leap of imagination, the recipe that follows was born. I think it tells how beauty can inform art, this time in a quinoa and fried egg burrito.

Ancho chilies with flowering coriander sprig. Anchos are the dried version of pasilla, sometimes mistakenly called poblano, chili peppers. They are mild yet spunky, sometimes with a tinge of heat, but not always. To make an appealing, deep brown/red sauce paste of them to slather on a tortilla, stir into chicken soup, or crown vanilla ice cream (!): Tear open and shake out the seeds of 6 ancho chili peppers. Pull off the stems and place the chilies in a small saucepan. Add 1 to 2 cloves smashed garlic and filtered water to cover. Cover, bring to a boil over high heat, then simmer for 20 minutes, until soft. With a slotted spoon transfer the chilies and garlic to a food processor or blender. Add 1/2 teaspoon kosher salt and 1 cup of the cooking liquid. Blend until you have a smooth, spreadable paste. If too thick, add more of the cooking liquid.

Makes 4 burritos

1/2  cup organic quinoa

1 cup filtered water

Ancho Chili Sauce (see the sidebar)

Four large ranch eggs

3 tablespoons butter, for frying the eggs

1/2 cup cilantro leaves tossed with 1/4 teaspoon apple cider vinegar

1/4 cup finely chopped light green scallions (the middle part)

4 large flour tortillas

1. Combine the quinoa and water in a medium-size saucepan. Bring to a boil over high heat, cover, and decrease the heat to low. Cook for 15 minutes, until most of the water is absorbed but the quinoa is still moist. Remove from the heat and let rest, still covered, until dried out and fluffy, 10 to 15 minutes.

2. Make the ancho chili sauce (see the sidebar)

3. Melt the butter in a large saute pan over medium-high heat. Crack in the eggs and cook gently until the whites are set and the yolks still runny, 5 to 7  minutes. Remove the pan from the heat and set aside.

4. To serve, heat the tortillas in a toaster or standard oven. Paint each tortilla with ancho chili sauce, then spread about 1/2 cup of quinoa along the center. Top with a fried egg. Sprinkle the cilantro/vinegar over the egg, then strew on some scallions. Fold up the bottom of the tortilla an inch and a half or so, fold over the sides to overlap in the middle, and enjoy.

Butternut Squash in Summer

Butternut squash, one of the most delicious of the winter squashes, is available much of the year. With some determination, it can be peeled with a vegetable peeler, then cut into chunks to cook and puree. The seeds can be roasted as you would pumpkin seeds.

Last week we were to take lunch to our 100-going-on-101 year old, dear friend, Kay Bradway. She’s an amazing person, a Jungian analyst who brought the practice of sand play therapy to American psychiatry after a trip to Europe in 1932. If you can imagine, that was when Hitler was mounting his forces, intent on taking over the universe. It was also a time when bon vivance imbued the streets and cafes in Europe.  We know Kay because she was a lifelong friend of Rick’s beloved late Aunt Joy. Since high school together in Minnesota, Kay and Joy kept up a strong bond, even from opposite sides of the continent

Rhubarb Strawberry Frozen Yogurt and Crystallized Orange Peel with Rosewater

Colorado Rocky Mountain rhubarb straight from the source

After the rhubarb chutney (see my previous post, July 25, 2011), I was looking for the best, most perfect, and fun way to use what was left of my gift of wild Colorado mountain rhubarb. As chance would have it, my cousin Karen Jenanyan and I, along with others at an al fresco lunch in our backyard, were discussing how much we love making yogurt from our generations-old starter and how we take pride in carrying and passing along the baton of  Armenian yogurt making. Karen had been experimenting with making yogurt with fruit on the bottom, like the small containers you find in grocery stores. We got to, how’s about some fruity frozen yogurt, which you don’t much find in grocery stores?

Rhubarb Compote with Rosewater and Balsamic Vinegar

A box of wild rhubarb from my long time friend and sometimes co-author, Susanna Hoffman, prompted a cooking rendezvous with the tart, succulent vegetable cum fruit. On her Colorado Rocky Mountain property, she has six large patches of the odd chenopodium, whose far flung relatives include

Wild Colorado Rocky Mountain rhubarb, direct from the source

Fresh Pickles, No Waiting

I’m an avid pickler, must have some on hand at all times. After years of “putting by” in sealed jars, I have turned away from that chore and now prefer fresh pickles. There’s no need for processing the jars to store on the pantry shelf nor

Beware the pickle poltergeist! The jar of cucumber pickles on the right was full to start with, but next thing I knew, it was only half full when it was time to shoot.

for lengthy resting in the frig while they cure. They are ready to serve within the next day or two. To that end, I have developed the following “magic brine”

Olive Oil Cumin Seed Ice Cream with Mango Slices

Many years ago, as I entered the spice bazaar in Casablanca, the scent of cumin provided a Proustian moment for me. I was young and it was my first excursion to Europe, via Yugoslavian freighter, a “hip” and

Generally, I use ground cumin for soups, stews, and curries, but for ice cream I opt for whole seeds, toasting them as in Indian and Mexican cooking. I then include them whole in the custard. That way, they lend the full benefit of their spice to the cold mix and also make a pleasing small crunch as you eat the ice cream.

“cheap” way to travel at the time (1967). Of all the beautiful and fragrant offerings, cumin wafted most aromatic, rising above the others and filling the street with its perfume, one I had not known until then. I continued delighting in its scent, literally, as I traveled around with a stash of cumin in my suitcase. To this day, cumin scents my kitchen as I prepare dishes for casual family meals and develop recipes for my cookbooks.

Recently, passing by an enticing  display of multi-hued mangoes,