What do you do when your father-in-law gives you a pound of some amazing smoked sausage? Well, after you stop nibbling away at it, you throw it in a pot with some lentils and make a comforting pot of sausage and lentil soup.
Today I’m guest posting over at Babble’s The Family Kitchen. Click over and visit, and you can find my recipe for this savory soup.
Special thanks to Kelsey, the amazing woman behind The Naptime Chef, for asking me to contribute to Babble’s The Family Kitchen.
When I was a kid, I had to eat everything on my plate before I could get up from the dining table. My mom would start cleaning the table and washing the dinner dishes in the kitchen and my dad would head into the living room to watch television. I, meanwhile, would sit quietly at the table, staring at a plate of Brussels sprouts or stewed tomatoes or cooked carrots, and wonder if I had time to sneak over to the screened window, open the latch, and throw my vegetables out without my parents noticing.
I developed the talent for swallowing vegetables nearly whole. In fact, I could swallow a serving of Brussels sprouts, one sprout at a time, without chewing once. Stewed tomatoes were easier to swallow whole. They slid down easy.
Why did I despise those vegetables? One explanation is that the 1970s and 1980s were an era of boiling food to oblivion and bitter mush. Also, our vegetables tended to come from cans. And then boiled. Another big reason I hated those vegetables is because I was told I HAD to eat them. I HAD to like them. It was required. Rules of the house.
As my husband – and my parents – will attest, I can be quite stubborn. Being told what to do is one of my pet peeves. I refused to like those vegetables partly because of taste, but maybe a lot due to stubbornness.
I am happy to tell you that Brussels sprouts and I have made up and are now best friends. I seriously can’t get enough of them. I’m guessing there are a lot of you out there who think you don’t like Brussels sprouts. I would hazard a guess that you’ve never had them prepared correctly. And maybe you, too, are stubborn.
Often I will sauté Brussels sprouts with some olive oil or bacon fat. Another favorite way is to roast the sprouts with a bit of olive oil, balsamic vinegar, and kosher salt. With a slight sweetness from the caramelized balsamic and a firm yet tender texture, these Brussels sprouts are my new love affair.
And yes, I even chew them now. They are THAT good.
Cooked carrots? Still hate ’em.
Yield: 3-4 side dish servings.
1 to 1 1/4 pounds Brussels sprouts
2 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
1/2 tablespoon balsamic vinegar
Kosher salt
Preheat oven to 400°F. Remove tough outer leaves of the Brussels sprouts, rinse well, cut off the stem end. Slice in half vertically (through the stem end).
Toss sprouts with olive oil and balsamic vinegar in a bowl. Pour onto a sheet pan lined with aluminum foil. Sprinkle sprouts generously with 2 to 3 pinches of kosher salt. Roast for about 20 minutes, until sprouts have begun to caramelize on the edges.
Note: These can be made up to 8 hours in advance. Cover and refrigerate, then warm in a 300°F oven for 10-15 minutes prior to serving.
I subscribe to a lot of food magazines. My husband would agree, and he’d probably throw in that I subscribe to TOO MANY food magazines. The stacks of magazines scattered throughout my house – on the coffee table, the end tables, under the console table, on the breakfast nook table, and on the kitchen counters – would argue that my husband might very well be right.
I find inspiration between the glossy covers of Fine Cooking and Bon Appétit. When I read the articles and essays in Saveur, I can’t help but look for photographs taken by Penny De Los Santos, food and travel photographer extraordinaire. Reading articles and recipes in Food and Wine is an indulgence, best done while sitting in my front porch rocking chair with a glass of Riesling in hand.
January issues bug me.
I’m a believer in eating healthy year-round, not just in January, when the magazine editors feature the healthy recipes they’ve been stockpiling all year. I hate to say it, but I’m less inspired and intrigued by recipes featured in these magazines during January than I am the rest of the year. I get bored.
So let’s talk cookies. Not salads and whole grains and lean meats. Cookies.
We can still eat cookies, you know, even though it’s January. One or two won’t hurt. Everything in moderation.
This recipe is just slightly tweaked from Ina Garten’s The Barefoot Contessa Cookbook
I glazed half the batch with Meyer lemon glaze and left the other half unadorned. The plain cookies, my son’s favorite, are slightly crumbly and subtly sweet with just a hint of Meyer lemon. The glazed version of the cookie was a hit with my husband and daughter. The lemon glaze transforms the shortbread into something entirely different. There was much more brightness and zing to the cookie.
So, if you need a cookie during this month of restraint, you can’t go wrong with one – or two – of these. Made with beautiful, fresh Meyer lemons, these cookies are sure to brighten up any cold January day.
(You may now resume your diet.)
Yield: approx 24 cookies
This is just a tweak of Ina Garten's recipe for shortbread, found here, and in her book, The Barefoot Contessa Cookbook. I left half the batch unglazed (which made my 4-year old happy) and glazed the other half with the Meyer lemon glaze found here (which pleased my 7 year old and husband).
3/4 pound unsalted butter, room temperature
1 cup sugar
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
3 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
1/4 teaspoon kosher salt
Zest from 1 Meyer lemon
Meyer lemon glaze [optional]
Preheat oven to 350°F.
In the bowl of a stand mixer, mix together butter and sugar until they are just combined. Add the vanilla. In another bowl, whisk together the flour and salt then add them to the butter-sugar mixture. Add the Meyer lemon zest. Mix on low speed until the dough starts to come together. Dump on a surface dusted with flour and shape into a flat disk. Wrap in plastic and chill for at least 30 minutes.
Roll the dough 1/2-inch thick and cut with a 3-inch round cookie-cutter or biscuit-cutter. Place on an ungreased baking sheet and bake for 20-25 minutes, until the edges begin to brown. Allow to cool to room temperature.
Optional: Glaze each cookie with Meyer lemon glaze, and allow cookies to chill in the refrigerator until glaze is set.
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