For someone who bakes her own bread pretty regularly, I haven’t experimented too much with different types of bread. I usually only eat bread once a day, for breakfast, with peanut butter, so I tended to think that my options were limited to plain sourdough or wheat. But I recently read a book by Joyce Carol Oates in which the main character begins learning how to bake bread. And she bakes all kinds of different loaves, full of fruits and nuts and flavors, and I was smitten. I decided it was time to branch out, to move away from sourdough and try something new. And I just happened to open one of my bread cookbooks to a recipe for Rustic Walnut Bread, and my decision was made.

Of course, I started pretty small, as far as wild variety goes. This bread is subtle enough that it’s very versatile: It’s great with peanut butter because the two nut flavors play off each other nicely. And it’s terrific with apple butter, a huge batch of which I just made recently. And man, it is terrific with a nice, nutty gruyere, with sharp cheddar, with brie. I’m willing to bet it would be terrific with any cheese. Make some small toast points out of this bread and they will fit perfectly onto an antipasto platter, or with an artichoke or spinach dip. And it will make great rolls for a holiday dinner. Thanksgiving, anyone?

Even better? It’s easy, and doesn’t require any special nut flours or anything. I actually left out fennel seeds, which the original recipe calls for, because I didn’t have them, and am not always a great fan of fennel seeds. I also updated the recipe to use instant yeast instead of fresh.

Rustic Walnut Bread
Adapted from Ursula Ferrigno’s The New Bread Book

• 1 lb. 5 oz (or 4 1/5 c.) bread flour (or you can use all-purpose, or you can use half bread flour and half whole wheat)
• 1 tsp. salt (I use fine sea salt for baking)
• 2 T. unsalted butter, cut into small pieces
• 1 c. finely chopped walnuts
• 2 1/2 tsp. instant yeast
• 1 1/2 c. warm water

Sift the flour and salt into a large mixing bowl. Cut the butter into the bread like you would butter for a pie crust: Use your fingers to rub the butter pieces into the flour until it is broken down into a coarse, sandy texture, without too many large lumps of butter left. Stir in the walnuts.

Mix together the yeast and about two tablespoons of the water. Add this to the flour mixture and stir, then slowly add the rest of the water, stirring, until you have a smooth, slightly sticky ball of dough. I have found that a hand mixer with dough hook attachments works really well for the middle mixing stages of making bread. I use a spatula to begin mixing the liquid into the flour, and once it’s started to come together, I switch to my hand mixer. I use the mixer until it’s almost entirely incorporated into one large ball of dough, then I turn the dough out on a floured surface to knead for about five to seven minutes, or until I have a nice, smooth ball. The walnuts made kneading this one a little tricky, because they kept popping out and flying to the ground, but if you’re not too vigorous, they should mostly stay in the dough.

Once the dough is smooth, put it back in the mixing bowl, cover with a towel, and set in a warm-ish place to rise for about an hour and a half. Sometimes I rinse the bowl out and spray it with spray oil, and sometimes I am just too lazy for that.

Once the dough has doubled in size, preheat the oven to 425F.

You have a few different options for shaping and baking.

• You can use a rectangular bread pan: Punch down the dough (or gently deflate, if you’re not feeling violent. Spray the pan with spray oil or butter it. Shape the bread into a slightly rectangular shape and fit it into the bread pan. Cover with a towel and let rise for another 20 minutes or so. Then slash the top of the bread a few times with a knife or lame, so air can release. Bake the bread for 10 minutes at 425, then for another 30 minutes at 375F. If you want, you can add a small dish of water to the oven to create steam, which helps make crispier crusts. Once the bread is browned, remove from the oven, pull the loaf out of the pan, and let cool on a wire rack.
• You can bake the bread on a pizza stone: Preheat the stone with the oven. Punch down the dough, and gently shape into a round or a baquette. Cover with a towel and let rise for another 20 minutes or so. Then slash the top of the bread a few times with a knife or lame, so air can release. Bake the bread for 10 minutes at 425F, then for another 30 minutes at 375F. If you want, you can add a small dish of water to the oven to create steam, which helps makes crispier crusts. Once the bread is browned, and sounds hollow when you tap the bottom, remove from the oven and let cool on a wire rack.
• You can bake the bread in a dutch oven: Preheat the oven with the dish part (not the lid) of the dutch oven in the oven. Punch down the dough, and shape into a round. Cover with a towel and let rise for another 20 minutes or so. Then slash the top of the bread a few times with a knife or lame, so air can release. Carefully place the dough into the hot dutch oven, and cover with the lid. Bake for 10 minutes at 425F, and another 30 minutes at 375F. The lid on the pot helps create steam, which makes for crispier crusts. Once the bread is golden brown, remove from the oven, pull the loaf out of the dutch oven, and let cool on a wire rack.

The bread has a wonderful, earthy flavor and I am loving it. I’ve already started to contemplate how it might taste made with pecans or even hazelnuts, perhaps with a little bit of cocoa added for a treat. But of course, I have three or four different bread cookbooks full of an amazing variety of breads, and I should probably give those a chance, too, now that I’ve finally broken out of my boring bread rut.

Yes, my friends, it is soup season again. I adore soup season, as you can probably tell from a quick glance through the archives of this site. Soup recipes abound. Soup is one of the easiest things to cook, and to experiment with—you can make delicious soup of of nearly anything. Most of the soup I make is vegetarian, if not vegan, so this particular soup is a bit different for me. I originally flagged it in the October 2007 issue of Bon Appetit, but just got around to make it a few weeks ago, on a chilly October day, when Mr. X was visiting. I figured he would appreciate a hearty, flavorful soup made with chorizo. And he did.

This soup is a total winner: spicy and thick with potatoes, dotted with silky bits of spinach, and easy peasy. I used a Mexican-style chorizo, rather than the linguica in the original recipe. And for the first time ever I saw yams and sweet potatoes side by side in the supermarket and truly realized what a big difference there is. The sweet potatoes I used in this soup were firmer than yams, and paler in color. I suspect yams would work just fine if it’s all you can get your hands on, but I recommend sweet potatoes.

I also added a tiny bit of cinnamon, because I was curious how it would taste, and it tasted great. The cinnamon flavor was definitely noticeable, though, so if you’re not sure about it, feel free to leave it out, or substitute for a bit of cumin, perhaps.

Sweet Potato and Sausage Soup
Adapted from Bon Appetit

• about 2 T. olive oil
• about 9 oz. Mexican chorizo (crumbly, not cured)
• 1 medium white onion, diced
• 3 cloves of garlic, minced
• 1/4 tsp. cinnamon
• salt and pepper to taste
• 1 or 2 large sweet potatoes, peeled and cut into 1-inch cubes
• 2 large russet potatoes, peeled and cut into 1-inch cubes
• 1 32-oz. container of chicken stock
• 3 c. fresh spinach, cleaned and chopped into small pieces

Heat the olive oil in a large soup pot over medium heat. Once it’s hot, add the chorizo to the pot, and use a wooden spoon to break it up into small pieces. Cook, stirring occasionally, for about five minutes, or until the sausage is mostly cooked through. Stir in the onions and cook until they’re soft and translucent, about five more minutes. Then add the garlic and cinnamon, and cook for about 30 seconds. Stir in the potatoes until they’re well coated in oil and cook for just a few minutes before adding the stock.

Stir well, bring the stock to a boil, and then lower the heat so the soup is simmering. Let it cook for at least 20 minutes, or until the potatoes are tender. Then stir in the spinach just until it’s wilted. Season to taste with salt and pepper, and serve.

I was never a big fan of winter when I lived in Boston, and I’m not going to pretend that I’m not a little disappointed that I haven’t managed to escape places where it snows quite yet. But big pots of soup, hot apple cider, and cozy sweaters do make me a little grateful for cold weather. And now that I live in a smaller, newer house with gas heating, as opposed to the huge, drafty house with expensive oil heating, I think winter will be just that much more pleasant. Heating and soup will get me through this one just fine, I think.

Man, I love pasta. I eat pasta at least three times a week, and not just with red sauce. I can take anything in my refrigerator and make some kind of pasta-based dinner around it. And recently, while flipping through Giada De Laurentiis’s Everyday Italian, I decided that nearly all of the recipes in this book would be more interesting if they were turned into pasta dishes. So I decided to start with Chicken Piccata.

Giada’s Chicken Piccata recipe is in the chapter on Cutlets. I’m assuming it’s meant to be served as a big slab of meat, maybe with a side of polenta and some kind of vegetable. But as you can probably tell if you’ve been following this blog for any length of time, I’m not really a big-slab-of-meat kind of girl. I tend to prefer meals in which all of the important food components can be mixed together and served in a bowl, which is probably why pasta is such a favorite. So I decided to add some zucchini to the mix and turn this big-slab-of-meat meal into a quick, easy, and tasty pasta dinner.

Chicken Piccata is traditionally served as a pan-cooked piece of chicken with a lemon and caper sauce. It didn’t take much work to cut the chicken into small pieces and saute it instead of cooking it whole, and the sauce is very simply made of three ingredients: chicken stock, lemon juice, and capers. Dredging the chicken pieces in flour is a key step, and helps make the sauce silky and thick. And throwing a little sauteed zucchini and onion in makes this a well-rounded meal. I just don’t feel right if I don’t have a vegetable at every meal.

I also added a little something that perhaps makes this less Italian and more Mediterranean:

I recently ordered a few herbs and spices from Penzey’s and was very pleasantly surprised when they sent a free sample of their Greek Seasoning blend. And the free sample was, as you can see, very generous. It completely justified the cost of shipping, and I was pretty stoked with the other things I ordered, too. And no, no one paid me to wax rhapsodic about Penzey’s. But if you’re living in an isolated place like I am, with fairly limited spice selections in your local supermarket, navigating Penzey’s admittedly annoying website and paying about $5 for shipping is more than worth it.

Anyway, I added a hefty pinch or two of this seasoning mix to the flour before dredging the chicken, and it added just a little something extra to the final dish. If you don’t have Greek seasoning, you can mix in a small pinch of oregano, garlic powder, and marjoram. Or you can leave it out entirely and the dish will not suffer.

I also had the sauteed zucchini leftover from a previous dinner, which leads me to a helpful hint for those of you out there cooking for one: If you don’t want an entire zucchini for dinner, go ahead and cook up the whole thing. Store half of the cooked zucchini in the refrigerator and use it in another dish later in the week. I find half a zucchini tends to keep a little better if it’s cooked than if it’s just wilting away in the crisper, and the olive oil-y onion-y flavors just get more delicious over time.

This recipe made for a big dinner for one person. You could serve it with a salad and a lovely baguette it would be a light dinner for two.

Chicken Piccata Pasta
Adapted from Giada’s Everyday Italian

• 1 large boneless, skinless chicken breast
• about 1/4 c. flour
• salt and pepper
• a big pinch of Greek seasoning, or smaller pinches of dried oregano, garlic powder, and marjoram
• 2 T. olive oil, divided
• 1/2 zucchini, sliced
• 1/2 a small white onion, diced
• 1/2 T. butter
• 1/2 c. chicken stock
• juice from half a lemon
• 2 T. capers, with a little liquid from the jar
• a small handful of chopped fresh parsley
• about a cup of uncooked gemilli pasta (or farfalle or shells or any other small pasta shape you like)

Cut the chicken into 1-inch pieces. Mix together the flour, salt, pepper, and seasonings, and toss the chicken pieces with the flour mixture so each piece is lightly coated. Put a large pot of salted water on to boil for the pasta.

Heat a tablespoon of olive oil in a medium skillet over medium heat. When it’s hot, add the onion and saute until it’s soft and slightly translucent, about two or three minutes. Add the zucchini slices, and a bit of salt and pepper. Saute the zucchini and onion until the zucchini is soft and golden, then remove from the skillet and set aside.

Add the pasta to the boiling water—The pasta will take about as long to cook as the chicken.

Heat the remaining olive oil and the butter in the same skillet you used for the zucchini. Once it’s hot, add the flour coated chicken pieces. Saute, stirring occasionally, for about five minutes, or until they are browned and almost entirely cooked through. Then stir in the chicken stock and bring to a boil. Let the chicken pieces and stock cook together, stirring occasionally, until the stock is almost entirely reduced and has created a slightly thick, silky sauce.

Drain the pasta and stir it and the zucchini mixture in with the chicken in the skillet. Add the lemon juice and capers and cook for another minute or two. Salt to taste, and serve garnished with parsley (which I believe I completely forgot in my hunger).

One of my favorite things about my new life in Walla Walla is that I have plenty of time for elaborate cooking projects. I have long, lazy Saturdays and Sundays with no one to see and not very much to do, and I spend most of that time in the kitchen (or on the couch learning to crochet and watching Buffy). On weekend evenings I like to pick a recipe from one of the many cooking magazines that are taking over my house, something that looks elaborate and involves many steps, and spend a good two or three hours in the kitchen, kneading dough and roasting things and assembling and baking and then, happily, eating.

This particular piece of deliciousness, from La Cucina Italiana, took about three hours, although most of that time was spent watching a movie while I waited for dough to rise. And it was well worth the wait. The dough is easy and rolls out smoothly (though it could do with a teensy bit more flavor, which could be achieved by letting it sit in the refrigerator overnight, I suspect). Roasting peppers in my oven was an adventure, and the end product was excellent: yeasty and warm and full of flavor. Anytime you combine bread, vegetables, and cheese, I suspect it’s impossible to end up with something bad.

Lately I’ve been having great luck with yeast breads, which is a relief after my early mishaps in Walla Walla. I am far from being an excellent bread baker, but I’m getting there. And this recipe is a great one to start with if you’re not a big bread baker because it’s easy and the shaping aspect is very forgiving. I could not get the dough to stretch out quite enough to reach all the edges of my baking pan, but it was easy to fold the top layer and bottom layer together, so it all worked out just fine in the end.

This is almost like a deep dish pizza, without the tomato sauce. It’s stuffed with mozzarella and sauteed escarole, and topped with sliced tomato and roasted pepper, and turns out wonderfully crusty. It would be a perfect accompaniment to a small salad or lentil soup. And if you can’t find good tomatoes this time of year, I suspect this would be equally delicious with a thin layer of tomato sauce or canned, diced tomatoes on top.

Focaccia Mediterranea
Adapted from La Cucina Italiana

For the dough:

• 2 1/4 c. bread flour
• 1 1/2 tsp. instant yeast
• 1 tsp. sea salt
• 1/8 tsp. sugar
• 3/4 c. warm water

For the filling and topping:

• 1 bell pepper (I used green, but any color would work)
• 1/2 small onion, diced
• approx. 3-4 T. olive oil, divided
• about 4 c. chopped escarole
• 3 T. parsley, finely chopped
• about 3/4 c. grated mozzarella or provolone
• 1 medium tomato, thinly sliced, or about 1/3 c. tomato sauce
• 1 tsp. dried oregano

In a large bowl, whisk together the flour, yeast, salt, and sugar. Add the water, and stir until the dough starts to come together. When most of the flour is incorporated, turn it out onto a floured surface and knead until the dough is smooth and slightly sticky. Return it to the bowl (I usually clean out the bowl and spray a light layer of olive oil inside, but I don’t think you need to). Cover the bowl with a cloth and let sit in a warm-ish room to rise. The dough should double in size, which usually takes about an hour.

Meanwhile, roast the pepper over a gas burner or under a broiler, for about four or five minutes on each side. Once it’s blackened, let it sit to cool for about 15 minutes, then peel the blackened skin off, chop and de-seed. (You could totally buy roasted peppers in a jar and I wouldn’t tell anyone).

Heat about two tablespoons of olive oil in a large skillet over medium heat. When it’s nice and hot, add the onion and cook for a few minutes, until the onion is soft and slightly translucent. Stir in the escarole a handful at a time, until it wilts, then stir in the parsley and a sprinkle of salt. Remove from the heat and let cool.

When the dough is risen, oil a 9-inch square baking pan. Divide the dough, taking about 2/3 of it for the bottom layer and the remaining 1/3 for the top. Roll the larger piece into a 10 inch by 10 inch square, and press it into the baking pan, making sure to press it into the corners. It doesn’t need to reach all the way to the top of each side.

Spread the sauteed escarole mixture over the layer of dough in the pan, and top with the grated cheese. Then roll out the remaining dough and use it to cover the escarole filling. Pinch the edges together to close it up.

Mix together about a tablespoon of oil with 1 tsp of water and a pinch of salt, and brush the mixture over the dough. Arrange the tomato and the roasted pepper on top and sprinkle with dried oregano. Now cover it with a dishtowel and let rise again, for about another hour.

Heat the oven to 450F. Bake the focaccia for about 30 minutes. When the crust is golden brown, remove it from the oven. Use a spatula to gently lift the focaccia out of the pan, and let it cool on a wire rack for at least five minutes, if you can. I’m not sure I did wait, honestly, it smelled so incredible. And it made for excellent leftovers, as it reheats easily in a toaster oven in just a few minutes.

This was such an excellent weekend cooking project, I can’t wait to try it again, and to experiment with different fillings and different toppings. I’d love to hear your suggestions in the comments! What kinds of fillings would you try?

When I first started this here blog, I cooked up a fancy dinner for my lady friend Crystal that subsequently stood out in my mind as one of the best things I’d ever made. It was the first time that I had a vision for dinner that didn’t come straight from the pages of a cookbook or a glossy magazine. I mixed tons of fresh herbs into some ricotta, stuffed it inside of some chicken, and topped the chicken with a light, tomato cream sauce that pulled it all together, and this recipe became my go to suggestion whenever anyone asked me for something easy but impressive to serve for dinner. But the original pictures I took for the post? Not so impressive. I always intended to make this again, with more appealing photographs, because I would hate to think this recipe would be shunned because of its seeming unattractiveness. Well finally, last week, I did it.

And I was reminded that yes, this really is one of the most inspired things to come out of my food obsessed head. It’s full of flavor and relatively quick, although I feel I should disclose that it does dirty a fair number of dishes. I tweaked the recipe just a bit from my original version, finishing the chicken in the oven instead of on the stove to ensure it cooks all the way through. I also got to use my fancy silicone food ties, a gift from my Aunt Debbie that I haven’t had an opportunity to try out until now. (They were a little tricky to get the hang of, but worked quite well once I got over the learning curve.)

I also used slightly different herbs this time around, thus proving this recipe is versatile enough to use what you have on hand. I do have to recommend using fresh herbs, at least for the majority of the filling. I used a little dried oregano, but the fresher the better, no matter what you’re using. In the original recipe I used basil, mint, parsley, and tarragon. The second time around I used basil, tarragon, thyme, and a little dried oregano. I say use whatever you like and you’ll be happy.

Herbed Ricotta-Stuffed Chicken Breasts with Sauce Aurore

• 2 boneless, skinless chicken breasts
• 3 T. balsamic vinegar
• 1 T. grain mustard or Dijon
• 1 tsp. dried tarragon
• about 1/2 c. olive oil, plus another tablespoon
• about 1 c. ricotta (I prefer whole milk, but it can be hard to find, and the recipe doesn’t suffer with skim)
• a good handful of your favorite fresh herbs, chopped
• salt and pepper

Sauce Aurore
(Adapted from The Joy of Cooking)

• 1 c. chicken stock
• 2 cloves garlic, minced
• 1/2 c. cream
• 2-3 T. tomato paste
• salt and pepper to taste

Whisk together the vinegar, mustard, and dried tarragon, then slowly whisk in the olive oil to make a marinade for the chicken.

Place each chicken breast between two sheets of plastic wrap or in a large plastic bag, and use a meat tenderizer (or a meat mallet, as I like to call them), to pound the chicken to thin cutlets, about 1/4 of an inch thick. Place the chicken in the bowl with the marinade so it’s well coated, and marinate the chicken for at least 30 minutes, or up to two hours (if you marinate longer than 30 minutes, put the bowl in the refrigerator).

Mix the fresh herbs, ricotta, and salt and pepper together well, so all the herbs are incorporated into the ricotta.

When you’re ready to cook, remove the chicken from the marinade and lay each breast flat on a cutting board, over food ties or kitchen twine. Spread a thin layer of the ricotta mixture over each flattened chicken breast, and gently roll them up, using your fingers to try to keep the ricotta inside of the rolled-up chicken. This is kind of a messy process, so if you’re squeamish about raw chicken, this might not be your bag. Use the twine or food ties, or just some toothpicks, to close up the chicken.

Preheat the oven to 350F, and heat the extra tablespoon of olive oil in a large skillet. Once it’s hot, place the chicken breasts, seam side down, into the skillet and let them sear for about two to four minutes. When the chicken releases easily from the pan, slip each piece over and cook for another two to four minutes. When it again releases easily from the pan, remove the chicken pieces to a baking dish and place in the oven to finish cooking for another 15 minutes or so.

Meanwhile, make the sauce: Deglaze the chicken skillet with the broth, scraping up any dark bits. Add the garlic to the broth and bring the mixture to a low boil. Let it boil slowly until it’s reduced by half. Then slowly whisk in the cream (you might want to warm the a bit in a microwave or let it sit out so it’s not icy cold). Let the mixture come to a boil, whisking occasionally, until it’s thickened enough to coat the back of a spoon. Then whisk in the tomato paste and season with salt and pepper. Let it cook for another minute or two so it’s thick and the tomato paste is well mixed.

Remove the chicken from the oven and let set for a few minutes before serving, drizzled with the sauce.

If you’d like to serve with a vegetable, like zucchini, you can saute them in the chicken skillet before making the sauce, and set them aside, covered, while you make the sauce. Or you can roast them in the oven with the chicken. I can’t think of a vegetable that wouldn’t be good with this stuff. And the sauce is so good, I have a hard time not just eating it all straight from the skillet with a spoon. I made it against last night with some good Italian salami and served it over ravioli, so I can attest to it’s versatility. This is one sauce recipe that I’m extremely glad I’ve added to my repertoire.

This recipe never seemed to get that much attention on this site, which I never could figure out, because it’s one of my favorites. I hope that bringing it back into the limelight (with more appetizing photos) will convince you to give it a shot. It is so worth it. Enjoy!

A few nights ago I found myself rooting through my pantry, trying to think of something easy to make for dinner that would not involve a trip to the grocery store. I wanted something hearty but not unhealthy, something vegetarian, and something that would make for excellent leftovers. I came up with this, and couldn’t have been more pleased. This simple white bean sauce makes an excellent topping for just about anything you can imagine. I ate it first on top of a mashed potato, with a little Parmesan and bread crumbs. I ate some of the leftovers with pasta, and some over simple grilled chicken. These would be terrific with polenta, or in an omelet or frittata, or mixed with some extra broth to make soup. Talk about versatile. This is most assuredly a new kitchen staple.

I made this with some of the last of the cherry tomatoes from my yard, but if tomato season is over, a small amount of canned tomatoes would work well, and would also make this more of a pantry-staples kind of meal. Sun-dried tomatoes might be interesting, or you could leave out the tomatoes altogether and see how this works with just tomato paste. Versatile and flexible—just how I like my dinners.

Easy White Bean and Tomato Sauce

• 1 T. olive oil
• 1 shallot, or a quarter of a small onion, chopped
• 2 cloves of garlic, minced
• about 1 c. cherry tomatoes, sliced in half
• 1 can white beans, undrained (the liquid makes the sauce extra silky)
• 1 – 1 1/2 T. tomato paste
• 1/2 c. vegetable (or chicken) stock
• a few fresh basil leaves, chopped
• salt and pepper, to taste

Heat the olive oil in a skillet over medium heat. When it’s hot, add the shallot and saute for about 2 or 3 minutes. Once the shallot is soft and slightly translucent, add the garlic and saute for another 30 seconds. Add the tomatoes, and cook just until they begin to soften. Then stir in the beans, tomato paste, and stock. Bring the sauce to a low boil and let it cook, stirring only occasionally, until it has thickened up a bit and the tomatoes are mostly broken down. Then stir in the basil (or any other herb of your fancy), and season with salt and pepper to taste.

Seriously, can it get any easier? I found this a perfect dinner spooned over a small baked potato, topped with breadcrumbs and some Parmesan.

You can be inventive with this: mix up the herbs, add some crushed red pepper with the garlic, or dried oregano, or add some zucchini with the tomatoes, if you’re looking for more vegetation. This is one of those great meals that allows you to experiment, and I love experimenting. And beans. If you come up with some other great add-ins or changes, let me know in the comments! I can’t wait to try this one again.

New England made a permanent impression on me, as evidenced by my linguistic and culinary relationship with scallops. Before moving to Boston, I had never eaten a scallop. I had no interest in scallops. As you can probably tell by the near complete lack of seafood recipes on this site, I’m not much of a fish eater, though I do continually vow to introduce it into my diet more often. And I thought scallops were some of the grossest of the gross in the aquatic world. They just looked like slimy blobs, and who wants to eat slimy blobs? Well, thanks to Boston’s seafood-heavy culture, and to Mr. X, I now want to eat slimy blobs, as long as those slimy blobs are scallops.

And yes, I cannot help myself from pronouncing this word as “scaw-lops,” in true New England fashion. And for this I blame one of my favorite library school professors, who had an old school Cantabrigian (as in, Massachusetts) accent, and liked to use scallops as an example in data modeling lessons, for reasons I will never really know.

Scallops are terrific when you’re cooking for one, because you can ask the lovely folks at the fish counter to give you only a quarter pound or so, and you will have just enough for you. They are easy and quick, and can be paired with just about anything. I ate these tasty blobs with tarted up couscous, which I cooked with shallots, garlic, carrots, pecans, and basil. The pecans were an inspired choice—inspired by the fact that the grocery store was out of pine nuts. But I have to say the pecans were really the way to go. Saltier, more textured, and much better, I suspect, than the pine nuts would have been. Yes, this one is a keeper.

The trickiest thing about cooking scallops is knowing when to flip them. They only need a quick sear in a very hot pan, but if you try to flip them too soon, they will fall apart on you. They don’t look as pretty in pieces, let me tell you. The best way to deal with this difficulty is with caution: Give them at least two minutes before you even try to flip, then, very gently, try to lift them with tongs, or gently try to slide a spatula under them to flip. If they are at all sticking to the pan, let them be for another minute or so. Scallops really only need a few minutes on each side, tops, and this couscous only takes about 10 or 15 minutes, so you’ll be eating dinner faster than you can say “Back off, Rachel Ray.”

Scallops and Couscous

• 2 T. olive oil
• 1 small shallot, diced
• 2 cloves of garlic, minced
• 1/2 carrot, chopped into small pieces
• 1/3 to 1/2 c. couscous
• 1/4 c. chopped pecans
• 2/3 to 3/4 c. vegetable or chicken broth
• 1/4 to 1/3 lb. scallops
• salt and pepper
• a small handful of sliced fresh basil or parsley

Heat one tablespoon of the olive oil in a small saucepan. Add the shallots and garlic, and saute for about 2 or 3 minutes. Add the carrots, and saute for another 3 minutes or so. If you’d like the carrots to be less crunchy, cover the saucepan and let the carrots steam for a few minutes. Then stir in the couscous and the broth, remove from the heat, and let sit for about five minutes.

While the couscous is sitting and soaking up the delicious broth, heat the remaining tablespoon of olive oil in a medium skillet. Season the scallops with a bit of salt and pepper. When the oil is very hot, add the scallops. Leave them untouched to cook for at least two minutes before testing to see if they’re ready to be flipped. When they release easily from the pan, flip them over and give them another two or three minutes. You want them to be just slightly browned on the outside, but not too firm or they will be tough.

Fluff the couscous with a fork and stir in the pecans, and a bit of salt to taste. Serve the scallops on top of the couscous, and sprinkle some fresh basil or parsley over it all. Delicious.

And this has nothing to do with scallops, but I have to share. I’m so excited that I finally managed to produce a decent loaf of bread here in Walla Walla:

Ever since I moved here, my bread has been turning out dense and flat and heavy and just plain bad. I didn’t know what was going on, I worried that my starter had died on its cross-country trek, that the air was inhibiting the action of my yeast, that I had bought bad yeast. Honestly, I’m a pretty novice bread baker, so I really had no idea what could be going on. But eventually, I figured it was probably just psycho-somatic, and once I got over myself, I managed to turn out a halfway decent loaf. Thank goodness.

This baked penne really felt like my last hurrah to summer: chock full of summer’s produce, corn, zucchini, tomatoes, but baked in the oven, which heats up my little house quite nicely when it’s suddenly dropped to 50 degrees outside. I realize October might seem pretty far past summer, but it’s really only a few weeks since the official season change, and people do seem to be pulling the last tomatoes off their vines right about now. Not me, though. Mine gave up the ghost ages ago. So I think this is an excellent early fall dinner, to use up the last of the over-abundant zucchini and get you ready for casseroles and slow cookers and braises galore as the days cool off.

I originally saw this recipe on the Williams-Sonoma site, but I have to say their proportions seemed a little crazy. Eight zucchini? Really?! My skillet is just not that big. Of course, their recipe is meant to feed eight people, and I really only wanted to feed one, with a few days of leftovers. Some recipe rearranging skills were definitely in order.

This is another recipe that’s not really a quick weeknight special. But it was wonderful for a quiet Friday evening at home. It probably took an hour, start to finish, and while it was in the oven I enjoyed a glass of wine and a video chat with my parents and adorable niece, Eliana. Oh, the wonders of modern technology.

End-of-Summer Baked Penne
Adapted from Williams-Sonoma

• 1/2 box of whole-wheat penne (about 6 or 7 ounces)
• olive oil (probably about 4 or 5 T)
• 1 ear of sweet corn, kernels removed
• salt and pepper
• 2 zucchini, sliced into half-rounds
• 1/4 onion, diced (I used yellow, but a red onion might be very good here)
• 2 roma tomatoes, cored and chopped
• 2-3 cloves of garlic, minced
• 1 tsp. dried oregano
• 1 pinch of dried crushed red pepper
• 1 T. tomato paste
• 1/4 c. white wine
• a good sized handful of chopped fresh basil
• 3/4 c. shredded mozzarella
• a few tablespoons of grated Parmesan

Preheat the oven to 400F. Put a large pot of salted water on to boil, and cook the pasta until it’s almost done. Drain and set aside.

Heat about a tablespoon of olive oil in a large skillet. Add the corn kernels, season with salt and pepper, and cook until slightly golden, about four or five minutes. Transfer the corn to a large bowl and set aside.

Heat another tablespoon of olive oil in the same skillet, and add the zucchini, cooking in batches until the zucchini is soft and starting to brown. You want to cook in batches so you don’t crowd the zucchini and make it cook unevenly. The zucchini should be able to lay in a single layer in the pan. Try not to stir it around too much, so it has a chance to brown in a lovely and delicious way. Once each batch is cooked, add it to the bowl with the corn. Add oil to the pan as needed so you’re not cooking zucchini in a totally dry pan.

Once the zucchini is all cooked, heat a little more oil in the same skillet and add the onion. Cook, stirring occasionally, for about two or three minutes before adding the tomatoes, garlic, oregano, red pepper flakes, and a bit of salt and pepper.

Once the tomatoes have softened a little and started to form a sauce, stir in the tomato paste and the wine. Continue to cook over medium high heat until the liquid has reduced by about half and you have a tasty tomato sauce. Now stir the reserved pasta and the tomato sauce together into the bowl with the corn and zucchini. Stir in about two-thirds of the mozzarella, and pour it all back into the same skillet you cooked everything in. Top with the rest of the mozzarella and the Parmesan, and bake for about 25 minutes, or until the pasta has started to brown a little on top.

The corn stays just a little crunchy, the tomatoes are perfectly tangy, and the cheese melds it all together. The vegetables aren’t overwhelmed by seasoning, and the whole-wheat pasta adds a nice, hearty bite. Perfect for a cool October evening, and a great way to say good-bye tomatoes, hello butternut squash.

I will be the first to admit that this is not the most attractive meal. However, it is so darned tasty and easy that, from its first accidental inception in my kitchen it has rapidly become one of my favorite easy, inexpensive weeknight dinners. The lentils, cooked with a bit of Worcestershire sauce, are rich and silky and delicious on their own, but paired with good quality Italian tuna and crispy, sweet caramelized onions, they feel positively indulgent.

The trick to making this really, very good is to use good tuna, packed in olive oil. Mushy, watery Chicken of the Sea simply will not do. I’m sure that a pan-seared tuna fillet would be excellent, but part of the ease of this dinner lies in the canned tuna, which is, for me, a pantry staple.

The other key to this tasty meal is the lentils. I haven’t tried this with brown or basic green lentils, so I can’t say it would be bad, but brown and green lentils have a tendency to break down a little more and become mush. I use French Green or Puy lentils, which stay firmer. Black beluga lentils would probably also be great.

I have done this with both shallots and with Walla Walla sweet onions, and they are both good. Generally, you want a milder onion, so Vidalia’s and Maui’s would be good, too. And if you’re really not a fan of tuna or are vegetarian, hell, I think these lentils would be an excellent meal on their own. They are that good. This recipe makes enough for one, so just multiply if you’re feeding more.

Lentils with Tuna and Caramelized Shallots

• 1/2 T. olive oil
• 1 clove of garlic, minced
• 1/2 a carrot, diced
• a few sprigs of thyme, leaves stripped
• 1/2 c. Puy lentils
• 1/2 to 1/3 c. vegetable or chicken broth (or water)
• a splash of Worcestershire sauce
• salt and pepper
• Caramelized Shallots or Onions (see below)
• 1/2 can of high-quality tuna, packed in oil

Caramelized Shallots or Onions

• 1 T. butter
• 1 T. olive oil
• 1 shallot, sliced OR 1/2 small onion, sliced

The caramelized shallots will take about 30 minutes, so start them first. Heat a medium skillet over medium-high heat and melt the butter and olive oil together. Once they’ve melted and the foaming has subsided, lower the heat. Add the shallots to the pan and spread them out in a single layer, then leave them, flipping them only once, until they’re lovely and brown and as crispy as you like. The trick to good caramelized onions is giving them lots of space and cooking them over low heat.

While they cook, start the lentils. Heat the olive oil in a small saucepan over medium heat. Once the oil is hot, add the garlic and carrots to the saucepan and stir to coat well with oil. Cook the carrots for about three or four minutes, then stir in the thyme, lentils, and broth. Add a splash of Worcestershire and some salt and pepper, lower the heat, and cover the saucepan. Let the lentils cook, covered, until the liquid is almost entirely absorbed, probably about 30 minutes.

Once the lentils are done and the onions are browned and delicious, spoon the lentils into a bowl, and top with the onions and the tuna. I like to stir it all together into one big bowl of tastiness.

Either I’m settling into more boring culinary habits or this meal really is spectacular because I’ve made three times and crave it frequently. In fact, I’m kind of wanting to eat it now, but in the interests of this blog I’ve already made a personal promise to cook only new things this week. You can bet, though, that this has a solid place in my menu rotation. Easy, inexpensive, delicious, and perfect when you’re cooking for one. Everything I look for in dinner these days.

I have been saving this recipe to post to my new blog, but setting up the new blog has been taking longer than I anticipated, and this chicken was so good, and so versatile, that I decided I couldn’t wait to share it any longer. The recipe comes from The Silver Palate Cookbook, and was apparently one of the first dishes to be offered at the Silver Palate food store. I discovered it only after reading about the death of Sheila Lukins, one of the founders of The Silver Palate, and I’m glad I did. I had the impression that The Silver Palate Cookbook was a throwback to the 80s and had never thought to pick it up. Now that I know better, I can’t wait to get my hands on a copy and try more.

I also can’t wait to cook more with prunes. I know, sounds crazy, but I was pleasantly surprised by the sweet richness they added to this chicken. I was also pleasantly surprised to discover prunes are nothing more than dried plums. I suspect if they were called dried plums instead of prunes they wouldn’t have such a geriatric reputation.

This isn’t a quick weeknight dinner kind of recipe. It requires some foresight, as the chicken is supposed to marinate overnight. But it is a great Sunday night recipe, because the leftovers can be used in a number of inventive ways, providing several more lunches and dinners throughout the week. I made a tasty chicken salad by adding a bit of plain yogurt and mustard to the chopped chicken, and leftover Chicken Marbella also makes a great topping for pasta. I’m willing to bet there are even more delicious things to do with Chicken Marbella, and I fully intend to make this again so I can discover what they are.

I roasted some carrots alongside the chicken, and served it over couscous cooked with shallots and fresh herbs. The vinegary, salty, olive-y marinade makes a delicious sauce, and while it might sound disgusting, packing the leftover, cut up chicken in the oil and pan juices helps to preserve it, a little bit like a confit. I did not want to use four whole chickens, because I really didn’t need that many leftovers, so I adapted the recipe a bit to use two bone-in, skin-on chicken breasts. Thighs would probably be delicious, as well.

Chicken Marbella
Adapted from The Silver Palate Cookbook, as discovered on Cookstr

• 1/4 c. olive oil
• 1/4 c. red wine vinegar
• 1/2 c. pitted prunes (I didn’t chop them, but I might in the future)
• 1/2 c. Spanish green olives
• 2-3 T. capers, with a bit of caper liquid
• 2 bay leaves
• 2 cloves garlic, minced
• 1 T. dried oregano
• salt and pepper
• 2 bone-in, skin-on chicken breasts
• 1/4 c. brown sugar
• 1/2 c. white wine
• 1 large carrot, cut into sticks
• a handful of fresh parsley, chopped

Combine the oil, vinegar, prunes, olives, capers, bay leaves, garlic, oregano, salt and pepper in a large bowl and mix well. Add the chicken and make sure the pieces are well coated. Cover and refrigerate over night, or for at least two hours.

When you’re ready to cook, preheat the oven to 350F. Arrange the chicken in a single layer in a baking dish, and pour the marinade over evenly. Sprinkle the chicken with the brown sugar and pour the white wine in the dish around the chicken. Add the carrots around the chicken, coating well with the marinade so they don’t dry out.

Bake, basting every ten or fifteen minutes with the pan juices, for about an hour (or until the chicken juices run clear when pricked with a knife or the temperature reaches 170). Remove from the oven and let rest for 10 minutes before cutting and serving. Spoon some of the pan juices over the chicken and carrots to serve.

Marbella-style Chicken Salad

• about 1 c. leftover chicken meat, chopped, with a bit of the olives and prunes if you like
• 1-2 T. plain, whole milk yogurt or mayonnaise
• 1 tsp. whole grain mustard
• salt and pepper to taste
• a pita, tortilla, or two slices of good bread
• a leaf or two of green lettuce

Mix the chopped chicken, yogurt, mustard, and salt and pepper well. Serve in your bread of choice, with some lettuce, and maybe a juicy tomato slice or two, if you’re into that kind of thing. A bit of chopped red onion would probably also be very delicious here.

Chicken Marbella Pasta

• leftover Chicken Marbella, chopped, with a good amount of the oil and pan juices
• about a cup or two of pasta
• perhaps some zucchini or green beans or whatever vegetables you have on hand

Bring a large pot of water to boil and cook the pasta according to the package directions.

Heat a skillet over medium heat and add the leftover chicken with the pan juices and oil. Heat until cooked through. If you’d like, add some zucchini or blanched green beans and cover the skillet to steam them a bit. Stir into cooked pasta and enjoy.