brr, brr shiver shiver

This is the time of year in New York affectionately referred to as the "dead season." Nothing comes, nothing grows (Where My Rosemary Goes). I've been subsisting entirely on dried beans, various grains, apples and coffee (x3). These days, it is with a mixture of bemused indifference and curiosity that my co-workers regard me as I pull out my trusty tupperware at lunch. And it is with -- I hope -- a level of fondness that my housemate murmurs "Yep, that's a Cassie meal" when I toss a roasted sweet potato onto a plate.

But what am I supposed to do? The ground outside is cold and hard and dead. Cooking has been reduced to the most skeletal of parameters: maximum warmth-retention. That means a lot of soups, chilis, stews, crusty breads, cheeses...And while these kinds of comfort foods are no doubt superb, you can imagine how it's not just for the snow outside that one begins to forget that the color Green exists.

Ahh, but what of Kale? Lovely, dark, green and hardy; Kale perseveres through the winter alongside us. A nutritional superstar, a kissing cousin to wild cabbage, Kale is the cover-girl of every middle-aged Mom food magazine crammed into grocery check-out lines. That's right: KALE! With exclamation points!!! With MORE exclamation points !!!!!!! You can tell it's that part of winter where my grasp on sanity begins to slip, because never ever before have I been so excited about a vegetable.




This salad came together as an accompaniment to a chicken dinner I had with my friends Ben D. (glasses) and Ben S. (no glasses). It's easy, hearty and completely malleable to individual tastes. It's the perfect side, as it's mild enough to complement the main course, but bright enough to offer a nice boost to the other flavors on your plate.

Wilted Kale Salad with Parmesan

You Will Need:

2 bunches of Kale
lemon juice
olive oil
salt
pamesan

To Make:

Clean Kale. Separate leaves from stems. Discard stems. Roughly chop leaves and place in a large salad bowl. Add olive oil and lemon juice to taste, and begin firmly squishing and turning the kale. Continue to do this until the kale has become wilted -- darker in color -- and fully coated with olive oil and lemon juice. Add salt and parmesan to taste. Chill briefly and serve.

Here is a quick index of some of my favorite kale recipes. What are yours?

101 Cookbooks -- Kale & Olive Oil Mashed Potatoes

I've never had good luck with the recipes from this blog, but it's pretty hard to screw up a good mashed potato!




Orangette -- Carrot & Kale Frittata







Gourmet -- Kale, Butternut Squash and Pancetta Pie







Smitten Kitchen -- Spaghetti with Swiss Chard and Garlic Chips

Substitute kale, just as good. Or leave the chard! Still good.


Kale Chips









Animal, Vegetable, Miracle - "Eggs In a Nest" at NPR

Sub kale for chard. Or use chard! Or use both! Crazy, I know...

i don't give a fig (but really, i do) !

I love Fig Newtons. God, it's embarrassing. Not only are they totally inappropriate for my age group (they've somehow straddled the divide between ages 10 and 70 - only really young or really old people can eat them and get away with it), I'm pretty sure that most of America thinks of them as some kind of cleverly packaged laxative. In an effort to take back Fig Newtons - and my dignity - I made up my mind to make them from scratch. The only problem? It's actually kind of tough to find a legitimate recipe. Like I said, I really love Fig Newtons.

Then my Mom gifted me an old Sunset magazine cookbook entitled, appropriately, "Cookies." Inside was a recipe for Fig Newtons, and I knew as soon as I looked that it was "the one". The lemon makes the difference.

Musical accompaniment here.

Homemade Fig Newtons

You Will Need:

For the dough:
1/2 cup butter, softened
1/2 cup each of granulated sugar and firmly packed brown sugar
1/2 tsp. vanilla
1 cup whole what flour
1 1/4 cups all-purpose flour
1/4 cup toasted, unsweetened wheat germ
1/4 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon baking soda

For the filling:
1 pound dried fights (about 2 cups, lighly packed)
1/2 cup walnuts (or almonds? yes?)
1/3 cup sugar
1/2 cup water
1 tsp. grated lemon peel
2 tbls. lemon juice

To Make:

Using a food processor or a food chopper fitted with a medium blade, grind together dried figs and walnuts (almonds?).







Turn into a medium-sized pan and add sugar, water, lemon peel and lemon juice. Place over medium heat and cook, stirring, until mixture boils and becomes very thick (5 to 8 minutes). Let cool completely.



In a large bowl, beat butter, granulated sugar, and brown sugar until creamy. Beat in eggs and vanilla. In another bowl, stir together whole wheat flour, all-purpose flour, wheat germ, salt and baking soda; gradually add to butter mixture, blending thoroughly. Cover dough tightly with plastic wrap and refrigerate until easy to handle (at least one hour - or even until the next day).



Divide dough into two equal portions. Return one portion to the fridge while you work with the other. On a floured board, roll out each portion to a straight-edged (editors note: there is literally no reason to make this straight-edged. for all I can see, the messier the better!). Cut length-wise into three strips. Divide cooled fruit filling into six equal portions and evenly distribute one portion down center of each strip, bringing it out to ends. Use a long spatula to lift sides of each dough strip over filling, overlapping edges slightly on top. Press together lightly. Cut strips in half crosswise; lift and invert onto greased baking sheets (seam side down). Brush off excess flour. Refrigerate for about fifteen minutes. Meanwhile, repeating rolling and filling with remaining dough.




Bake in a 375 degree oven for 15 to 20 minutes or until browned. Let cool on baking sheets or rack for about ten minutes, then cut each strip crosswise into four pieces. Transfer cookies to racks and let cool completely. Store covered - eat immediately, etc.