Super Moon Risotto (Cakes)

Dear Mouse,

"Ever since the Professor and his wife have come, our daily life seems to have jumped the track. I sleep at the wrong time, drink wine, and eat different Kabuli. Fancy. Bad for the system."

- Vanya, Target Margin's 'Uncle Vanya'

Last week, I basically didn't really sleep much. Even so,  I managed to have a series of vivid and bothersome dreams. I'm not saying that they were necessarily due to my nightly meltdown in this seemingly harmless "Chekhov Slumber Party", running for one more week. I'm also not saying the fault lies with eating leftover 'Drunk Man Noodles' from Spice for breakfast at 5AM. Anything's possible.

On the third mostly sleepless night,  I dreamed that I went out of my house (house?) to take my car (car?) to work (work? j/k) and was dismayed to see that the tires were basically flaccid. 'How', I (dream) thought to my (dream) self, 'could I have let this happen? How have I been just driving around on these tires and running them ragged instead of taking proper care of them? Is there a gas station near here? How will I get there? Will anyone help me put air in these things? And (for real, I thought this in my dream), how do I get out of here without anyone finding out I did this and laughing at me?' And then I woke up. (Oh, and I was also parked on somebody's lawn. Because that's how I (dream) roll.)

As you've often gleefully pointed out, Mouse, my dream life is almost ludicrously easy to read, its metaphors so obvious they can hardly even be called metaphor (what's the opposite of metaphor? Obva-phor?) So there's something reassuring about knowing that this dream means nothing more complicated than  maybe I just need a break. To, you know, pump air into my obvaphorical tires. 

                                                                  I'm getting to the food.

I venture to say though that my recent insomnia and various other mood swings and mild hallucinations aren't ALL due to nights of mashed-up Chekhov and days of musical Gertrude Stein (rehearsing this). There's a LOT goin' on in the air around us right now. There's the pollen count, which I'm gonna say has accounted for, oh, 87% of my recent conversations. There's this crazy weather (remember when it used to be kind of  nice out  in MAY?) And then of course there was the Super Moon that, well, happened last week and I'm just getting around to posting this now.

                                                            I'm GETTING to the food!

It was cloudy, so we in NYC didn't see it, but we (at least I) sure felt it. The Super Moon, so named for being the biggest/closest full moon of the year, zoomed into our lives on May 5 in the sign of Scorpio, the astrological sign associated with death, sex, regeneration, and scorpions. Yow. As this is a blog devoted to food (I'm GETTING to it!!) and not New-Age Hoo-Ha, I'll stop there, but my point is, yow. There's a lot out there to throw a girl off balance at the moment, especially a Sensitive Cancer with flat tires. 

Enter Risotto. This risotto, to be specific:

                       Shape and color of risotto pictured here to be explained in next paragraph.

I can't think of anything better to make for dinner during such a Lunatic Week. Creamy, soothing, filling, complex in flavor but not (as you might suspect) in assembly, it is the ultimate comfort food AND comes with the fringe benefit of stress release as you stir and stir, adding broth one cup at a time and marveling at how not even a cup of rice magically expands to feed you, your guest, and either another person or you, again, late-night, post-show, frying leftovers into risotto CAKES and silently thanking your genius sister for the suggestion. 

Love,

The Boo

Super Moon Risotto (Cakes) for Basically Two or Three People

(based on Ina Garten's recipe)

Ingredients

3/4 C Arborio Rice

1tbsp olive oil

1tbsp butter

1/2 C chopped fennel

1 med onion chopped

1/3 C dry white wine (and you'll probably splash some more in during the stirring, why not)

4 C (about) hot chicken broth (maybe have some extra there in case)

1/2 lb asparagus

zest of two lemons

1tbsp fresh lemon juice

1/4 C mascarpone

1/4 C parmesan (or more if you like -- and definitely more for serving)

1 tbsp minced fresh chives

 I would do this part first: cut asparagus into 1-in lengths, discarding woody stems, and blanch in boiling water for a few minutes. Set aside. 

Olive oil and butter into your dutch oven or similar pot over med heat. When hot/melted, add onion and fennel and saute  for 5-7 minutes, til tender. Add rice and stir to coat w/oil and butter. Add the wine and simmer over low heat, stirring constantly until absorbed. Start adding hot chicken broth, a ladle at a time, stirring constantly until absorbed before adding the next. Do this til all broth is gone.  This will take about 25-30 min. When you're 15 minutes in, add the asparagus, lemon zest, salt and pepper. Continue cooking and adding stock and stirring, til the rice is tender but firm. 

Whisk lemon juice and mascarpone together. When risotto is done, turn off the heat and stir in mascarpone mixture plus parmesan and chives. Let it settle a minute then serve with addtional parm and chives for sprinkling. 

                                                      THE NEXT DAY:

Put 1 tbsp of olive oil into a pan over med/low heat.  Maybe using a 1/4 C scoop or similar, scoop a ball of leftover risotto into pan and gently flatten to make more of a cake shape. Fry over medium heat for about ten min (be patient and also watch so you don't burn). When it's brown on the bottom and able to hold its shape reasonably, carefully flip over and do the other side. Eat. Yum.

Distraction Soup

Dear Mouse,

There is a roach in my kitchen. (or, ok, was when I started this post. Sigh.)

There was also roach in my kitchen last week, as you know because I fled to your place seeking help. Your Fiance killed what was probably its cousin in the hallway, but the original beast got away from us. It was enormous and it had WINGS. Dear God.

I put down many traps and had the exterminator in.

And then, the next night, while peacefully making some peacefully quick-roasted veggies for dinner (I know, in the heat, but it only takes like 10 min), I noticed Moth-Ra had returned. I found him? her? on his/her back inside the big soup pot that lives on the stove, very very dead, perhaps roasted from the heat coming from the veggies below. Perhaps. Perhaps it had eaten some poison and crawled in there to die as a last F-You. Either way, it was very upsetting.

As you know, my phobia concerning these creatures is legend in some circles. I've been known to build forts and barricades, stuff towels in front of doors, sleep upright in arm chairs, consider leaving the house without pants, actually leave the house without pants, and, of course, scream bloody murder.

I put on gloves, and threw the whole thing out (the soup pot plus an innocent teakettle that happened to be inside, oh well), and ended the evening with an amplifier blocking the kitchen (as if to ... what?), a big glass of pink prosecco and some dark chocolate. And two NyQuil. Goodnight world, I thought. Let's try this again tomorrow.

You know you're watching your figure when this is dessert.

Green & Black's Dark Chocolate w/crystallized ginger, Trader Joe's dried berry medley. Actually, delicious.

And I did. A week later, after having my apartment cleaned professionally (first time; amazeballs), I got up the guts to cook something (read: enter the kitchen) again.

And I can only blame insect-related PTSD for the fact that honestly, I have never so thorougly botched a recipe in my life. I truly can't believe the number of things I did wrong. I'm including my version of the recipe. Why? Because it was delicious.

Let's review, shall we?

For one thing, I decided to make soup.

Discerning readers will recall that I have thrown out my only real soup pot.

Soup? In this heat? Well, as I so often do when trying not to think about bugs, I was flipping through my trusty Chase Summer cookbook and came upon "Minestrone Freddo" (or, "Cold Minestrone") which sounded perfect in above-90 weather. (Note: actual process of making soup = not cooling.)

Read On.

The Boo's Hot Weather 'Cold' Minestrone

(Adapted Only Partly On Purpose from Sarah Leah Chase)

INGREDIENTS
12 cups chicken broth
3 Tbsp olive oil
1 onion, chopped
4 cloves garlic, minced
5 tomatoes, seeded and cut into 1/2-in chunks
1 zucchini, chopped
1 summer squash, chopped
2 potatoes, diced
1 bag (8 oz) baby spinach
1/2 Cup basil, chopped
2 Cups cooked rice*
*I reccommend Trader Joe's "Brown Rice Medley" which involves long grain brown rice, black barley, and daikon radish seeds)
8 oz (1 package) bacon, chopped (supposed to be half proscuitto and half pancetta, you can do that if you're fancy.)
1 Cup white wine
1 can cannellini (white) beans
Grated parmesan (I'm into Trader Joe's "Creamy Black Pepper Parm" right now)

Side by Side by Side: Brown Rice Medley (L) duet with Chopped Veggies in Bacon Fat (R) (Still healthy!)

1. Right off the bat, forget two ingredients, the carrots (2, diced) and the small green cabbage (sliced). (I didn't miss them but can't hurt.)

2. Heat oil in soup pot over med high heat. Enter bacon. (I like that, I'm gonna start doing stage directions in recipes.) Cook until lightly brown/crispy, 7-10 minutes.

3. Enter squash, zucchini, potatoes, onion, garlic (and carrots if using). (Recommended: chop everything the day before and store in fridge. Makes life easier.) Cook, stirring occasionally, 10 minutes.

4. Realize you have completely forgotten the onions. Hastily chop and saute them separately, then throw in. This step not recommended.

5. Enter tomatoes, cook 5 minutes longer.

6. Pour in chicken broth! Pour in wine! Realize your Le Creuset is barely large enough to hold everything. Thank the gods that it didn't overflow. (Use a soup pot.)

7. Add spinach (and cabbage if using). Simmer uncovered for 45 min, hoping it cooks down. (It does, but only a little.) Stir/check occasionally.

8. Add rice, beans, and basil. Salt and pepper to taste.

9. Impulsively throw in a bay leaf. Panic, read everything online about whether or not bay works in minestrone, fish out bay leaf and throw away. (Exit Bay Leaf, Stage Left.) (You don't need to do this either.)

10. Simmer 10 more minutes.

11. Let cool off completely and then put in fridge to chill.

12. Get hungry and eat it warm, with grated parmesan on top. (Recommended: I've now had it both ways and I think it's better warm than cold. Go figure.)

So there you have it. Healthy, whole grain, summer deliciousness. If this soup is wrong, I don't wanna be right.

Love,

The Boo

Failed Kale (What a Difference a Minute Makes)

photo courtesy of worldcommunitycookbook.com

Dear Mouse,


I learned something. I couldn't decide how to sum it up, so here's 5 versions:

It's the little things. In cooking just as much if not more as anything else.

It is possible to ruin kale.

It is possible to ruin a tested, well-received, simple!! recipe by missing one tiny important step.

God is in the details.

The harder you try to be impressive with your dinner the more likely it is you will fall on your face.

But now wait a minute, actually, in my defense: This was NOT a trying-hard dinner. I know better than that! I wasn't going to bone a duck or make tapenade. The Date was coming over, and I was going for graceful, effortless, 'so-what-if-my-kitchen-must-be-viewed-through-a-microscope' sexiness. No stress. I chose a very very easy and tasty menu: Pasta Puttanesca (as endorsed in your Valentines post), and the Kale with Bacon and Vinegar that everybody loved at Fall Equinox. (Duh - it has BACON and VINEGAR). Fast, simple, AND impressive, right? FYI I based my version of 'Whore's Pasta' on the Amateur Gourmet's version ... though I just couldn't do the 8 cloves of garlic!!! (Sorry Adam!) and stopped at 5, as The Date's eyes were already bugging out at the pile on the cutting board.

The Kale is a breeze - into the boiling water for 5, into the pan with the fried-up bacon for 10, into a bowl, splash with vinegar, serve. I was way more focused on the Pasta of Ill Repute, having never made it before. And while flitting around trying to appear gorgeous and not sweaty, I blithely splashed the vinegar into the saute pan during phase 2. As in, I cooked with it, instead of finishing with it. But so what, big deal.

The Puttanesca - salty, savory, garlicky, sour - was a big hit. "This is great", the Date (who had claimed to hate anchovies) enthused, piling on the grated parmesan White American Man-style.

The kale, however, got this response:

"Tastes kinda weird."

And, Mouse, it did. Oh, my bruised FoodBlogger Ego. It was, like, musty, or kind of fruit-gone-bad. No denying it. And I was all, "but it has BACON and VINEGAR..." I couldn't figure it out. I'd made it before!

There was but one thing to do. Go upstairs, visit The Neighbors, and eat most of their cake. And, while there, learn a few things. Firstly, that Puttanesca was the first thing that Mrs. Neighbor had ever cooked for Mr. Neighbor, and secondly, that she had also screwed up a perfectly good vegetable recipe by doing guess what: putting the vinegar into the pan while cooking instead of using it to finish the dish. She likened the taste to a bottle of wine that had turned. Yep.

I tested out this theory a couple of days later with a whole new bunch of kale and I have to say it holds up. Delicious once again, bacon and all. photo courtesy myrecipes.com and Boo's laziness

So, while most of my posts are of the "Just get in there! Make it up!" variety, the moral of this one is: Attention Must Be Paid. Stick to the G-D recipe and stop worrying about your waterproof mascara.

Love,

The Boo