high dive

what to do with an endive? i usually encounter them in the grocery store, looking wan and sad in a small pile along side other less popular vegetables. but i've always liked the look of endive - smooth and sleek, like little white torpedoes with elegant green tips.

endive (a member of the daisy family, i just learned), have only really functioned for me heretofore as edible cups for dips and appetizers. and who doesn't love an edible cup? cones (for ice cream), taco shells, wontons - even tomatoes and cucumbers hollowed out can become edible vessels for dips and salads. but is this all the lonely endive is good for? relegated to a life of bland transport?

in the february issue of food & wine magazine, my eye was caught by a simple and genius mode of endive preparation, conceived by tory miller, chef at l'etoile in madison, wisconsin. the article itself was totally adorable, about how as a way to bust the seasonal boredom, chef miller and his restaurant staff play broom hockey and then eat amazing wintry meals together. the meal highlighted in f&w had a "winter white" theme. when i saw the technique for braising endives in gin and orange juice, i wrote right on the magazine page in an excited scrawl "want to try this!" and stalked my neighborhood grocery stores until i found endives that seemed acceptable. perhaps a bit over zealous, i also splurged on high quality, local gin and organic fresh oranges.

there are very few dishes that i ever have, or ever will, refer to as "gorgeous." or "sensuous" or "voluptuous," or any of those over wrought food writer words that seem to convey more the party in your pants than the one in your mouth. and so, i struggle to find a way to describe this vegetable side that doesn't rely on those silly tropes. i will just say, before sharing this gem of a recipe: while eating the finished dish, i sat alone in my kitchen, uncontrollably exclaiming out loud to the universe, "holy shit, this is so GOOD!" it may be one of the best things i've ever made. the caramelized, tender leaves of the endives, dry juniper berry zing of the gin, and tart sugars of the orange juice are fast friends. however, the finishing sauce is what really takes this to a gourmet level, and is a sophisticated, awesome technique i am sure i'll employ a thousand times to come.

Gin & Juice Braised Endives

adapted from the February 2011 issue of Food & Wine magazine

~serves two as a side, or one hungry person who doesn't want to share~

~takes 30 minutes~

ingredients:

1 tblsp extra-virgin olive oil

5 belgian endives, halved lenghtwise

1/4 cup good quality gin

salt & pepper

1/2 cup (maybe a little less) fresh orange juice

2 tablespoons margarine or butter

2 tablespoons agave nectar, brown rice syrup, or honey

1 scallion, white and light green parts only, sliced (optional)

1 tablespoon roasted pumpkin seeds (optional)

balsamic vinegar, for drizzling

- heat the oil in a large, non-stick or well seasoned cast iron skillet. add the endive halves, cut side down, and cook over medium heat until nicely browned, about 5 minutes.

- slowly pour the gin over the pan and let cook until reduced by half. flip the endives over, season with salt and pepper (less salt if you plan on using margarine later), and add the OJ.

- lower the heat and cover. cook for about 15 minutes, turning the endives back over one time, about 10 minutes through.

- once the endives are tender, transfer them to a plate using a slotted spoon. add the margarine or butter to the remaining liquid in the plan, then swirl in the agave or honey. bring this radiant sauce to a quick boil, stirring gently with a spatula. when it's nice and syrupy (only about 2 minutes are needed), season with more pepper. this makes your kitchen smell amazing.

- pour the sauce over the endives, and garnish with the scallion and pepitas. i didn't have either of these things on hand, and trust me, it did not matter one bit.

- drizzle the plate with a tiny bit of balsamic vinegar, and serve.

for even further decadence, enjoy this dish with an ice cold gin martini

try to take your time with this heady, wonderful dish. your impulse will be to inhale them all at once in a fit of pleasure, but it's really worth it to savor each small bite, letting all the distinct but harmonious flavors and textures dance through your mind.

love,

emily

birthday dinner round II - blue sage veg grille

what do you get the foodie who has everything? ok, while she doesn't have the fully stocked kitchen of her dreams, sissy lauren has been gifted numerous cooking items. in fact, she's just been gifted many things from me in general over our 24 year-long course as sisters. so for her recent birthday i found myself at a bit of a loss. an extra special dinner out is always fun, i figured, but where? we've been to horizons enough times to give it a rest, mi lah has recently been super disappointing, and sadly, that kind of covers it for fully vegetarian restaurants in the city. maybe upstairs at govinda's but...eh, i dunno that just never seems appealing to me. so i literally googled "vegetarian restaurants philly," and amongst all the crap that came up from the search, i saw one name i'd never heard of, blue sage vegetarian grille.

i looked over the menu and excitedly sent the link to lauren. she agreed that we should try it out, and we finally got our schedules to click (it is a few weeks past her actual birthday), and made the reservation for this past wednesday. now, blue sage is not in philadelphia proper; it's actually about a 1/2 hour drive, up 95N and then down street road, in a town called southampton. if you weren't specifically looking for it, you could easily miss the restaurant, tucked away in a little shopping center, very suburban. bottle of white wine in hand - it's a BYOB - we ran into the joint (we were a bit later than our rez...driving down those main drags always takes longer than you think), and the place was packed! a good sign on a weeknight. the restaurant is pretty small, and it took us little while to get seated, and our impatience was heightened by our growling bellies.

finally at our seats, we took stock of the interior. overall, pretty non-descript and boring, as you can see from the photo on their website. many of the tables were really close together, but we had a more generously sized personal bubble up against the front wall. not spacious enough to shield the comments of the nerdy, tact-less older couple next to us, who kept quietly commenting, as if we couldn't hear them from 3 feet away, on how we were photographing our food. forget the BYOB, just MYOB. geez.

more importantly, the wine was poured, and we made our menu selections with our cute, non-invasive waitress. the menu was about 1/2 vegetarian and 1/2 vegan, with some interesting options. some of the descriptions were a bit overdone, nearing paragraph length at times, and "simple" is not what i'd call this food. in that cliche gourmond way, everything had tons of ingredients. one interesting thing that we noted was the absence of tofu, or any other "meat substitutes." just tons and tons of vegetable dishes, which is awesome. anyway, soon the food started coming and i stopped analyzing and just started eating. first, a little bonus starter: walnut honey pumpernickel bread with pumpkin seed butter and cranberry jam, a cool twist on pb&j.


the pumpkin seed butter was so wondrously flavorful, definitely something we want to experiment with making at home. next up were two relatively standard, but delicious appetizers. in the end, i think these were the strongest dishes of the whole evening:

green curry summer BBQ rolls: not-fried rice paper roll encases baby spinach, thai barbeque glazed vegetables, smoked red onion, fresh ginger & basil. served with soy syrup, dipping oils, side of jicama slaw

these were unlike any spring rolls i've ever had. the veggies inside were absolutely soaked in BBQ sauce, but not in a bad way. i can't really remember how the green curry factored in, maybe it was just mixed in with the soy glaze drizzled on the plate. either way, these were really satisfying, savory little snacks.

red pepper hummus sampler: smoked red pepper hummus with chive infused olive oil, falafel topped with tomato almond romesco & pistachio topped baba ghanoush. served with toasted rosemary focaccia slivers.

it's hard to go wrong with a middle eastern sampler, and this was no exception. i love, love pistachios, so the baba ghanoush really rocked my face off. the falafel balls were just okay (not green inside, which i've learned is the telltale sign of really fresh falafel), but the almond romesco was rich and spicy. the hummus was average, but the focaccia, stuffed into a cup with huge sprigs of fresh rosemary, was top notch.

as you may have noticed, the portions at blue sage are way generous. suffice to say, we were getting full-ish, but were still psyched for the entrees. i gotta say though...the entrees did not truly meet our expectations. my hypothesis is that there was just too much going on on the plate. exhibit A:

cubano supper: flaky plantain pastries stuffed with sunflower seed-smoked red pepper pesto surround tower of yellow tomatoes & avocado corn salsa. served with chipotle jicama slaw & mango-papaya relish.

this was certainly the stronger of the two entrees. the plantain pastries were hearty and not too greasy. all the stuff piled up in the middle (my attention span is barely long enough to get me through the end of the dish description), was fresh and tasty, and though i despise papaya, the fruity relish was quite a nice palate cooler. now, when i hear "cubano" i think of those awesome ham, cheese and pickle sandwiches, so i have no idea if this dish reflects authentic cuban food. my guess would have to be not really. but still, it was a decent eat.

next up:

east-west bento box: avocado cucumber salad with thai peanut dressing, steamed dumplings with red lentil filling in pea broth, and red coconut curry with exotic mushrooms, edamame, and corn.

i had really high hopes for this dish and was rather disappointed. i harbor deep affection for steamed dumplings, and these were so bad, we didn't even bring the leftovers home. the pureed lentil filling had an unappealing texture, just mushy mush in your mouth. ugh. also, the pea "broth" was more of a puree, in a wholly baby food kind of way. not good. the red curry was spiced with a heavy hand, and the coconut flavor was faint, at best. the mushrooms were left in huge caps, not sliced, and hard to eat in any graceful manner with that tiny ceramic spoon. the salad was actually great, but an easy score. i dunno, it's also possible that we were so full by that point that eating was becoming a bit of a chore. we took the bento box leftovers home (sans diaper dumplings), and it's sat untouched in the fridge for the past 3 days. i just don't think we can get excited about it, which is sad, and very unlike us.

so we passed on dessert, paid the check, and headed home, driving past the endless shopping centers and fast food joints. the bill came in somewhere around where horizons might if you kept the booze to a minimum, but the quality of the food simply did not compare. it was fun to adventure outside of the city (dudes, the 'burbs are weeeeeird), and it's awesome that there can be a successful fully vegetarian restaurant operating in a decidedly non-urban locale. but honestly, next time i might opt to save the gas $$, call in a double order of spring rolls to vientiane, spread a blanket under a tree in the park, and pound a bottle of birthday wine with sis lauren.

love,
emily

late spring score

i won't play modest mousy here: when it comes to matters of the kitchen, when i'm on, i'm on. yesterday, the first real day off from work i've had in nearly 2 weeks, i made it my beeswax to spend a good part of my day cooking. first, after a relaxing morning in bed, a trip with ryan to the clark park farmer's market. the farmers' tables aren't as loaded as they may be in a month, but there was plenty to contemplate. we walked away with a canvas bag full of: organic brown eggs (for ryan), herbed homemade chips from the amish man (the first stand in the park if you're coming from baltimore ave. - also, try his mint iced tea!), a big leafy bunch of lacinato kale, two glowing red tomatoes, and a pint of the season's finest: strawberries. good lord, these strawberries are so melt-y and sweet, they make supermarket strawberries cry with shame.

back at home, ryan made some crazy amazing looking omelette, and i whipped up a big old tofu scramble, studded with some onions and roasted red peps. nothing too out of the ordinary, but a hearty breakfast nonetheless:


ry left for work around 3:30, and i biked downtown with him. i met up with my co-worker (and soon to be new housemate!) RJ, and we vented and laughed about work stuff over very, very tall pints of lager at oscar's - best dive bar in the city. we parted ways in the early evening and i savored my slow and somewhat wobbly bike ride back west. the sun was low in the sky, and a gentle breeze kicked off the river. it was the kind of moment i so often dream about during the cruel winter months, buried under blankets on the couch.

when i got back home to an empty house, i was invigorated and inspired to make something special with my farmer's market scores. i decided to really do it up in an everything-from-scratch, multi-step, multi-dish fashion. i didn't have a plan, but a quick rummage through the fridge brought on a slew of fresh ideas. i started prepping some ingredients, popped in a "jazz masters" cassette tape, and then a magical thing happened: i entered kind of a culinary trance, where one idea effortlessly transitioned to the next, and before i knew it, every burner on the stove was occupied, things were marinating in little dishes, and the image of the finished plate was formed in my mind.

and it reminded me of how cooking a meal is like writing a story: you need to give yourself a bit of structure or few character sketches, but the real beauty happens when you fill in the spaces between the plot points, when you loosen your grip on your brain and let it roam. stream of consciousness, kitchen-style, is when you put the cookbooks away and let the food just happen. a lot of the time, it's hard for me to get in this mode, but gorgeous produce and bountiful staple ingredients helped me let go...

much to my surprise, lauren came home from work (i thought she was dining with a friend), which snapped me a bit out of my stove-top reverie. she poured us lovely little grapefruit & gin cocktails:


and helped set the table while i flipped the last few things in the frying pan. she waited patiently while i plated, and then we sat down to what was one of the most creative, satisfying meals i've made in quite a long time:

quinoa w/ crispy leeks topped with chipotle scented lacinato kale & tomato salad, pan fried seed encrusted tofu with spicy crema,
and fresh corn griddle cakes with a minty balsamic macerated strawberries

one little recipe to share for the strawberry topping:
(it's best to make this first, before you even start prepping or cooking anything else, so the strawberries can soften up, with the help of the vinegar, and sweetend up, with the help of the sugars they release)

- mash 6-8 ripe strawbs in a non-metal bowl.
- drizzle about 1 tsp of the best balsamic vinegar you can get (the kind i used is super special, procured on lauren's trip to italy a few years ago)
- toss in about 1 tablespoon of chopped up fresh mint.
- crush up a couple black peppercorns with a mortar and pestle (or, okay, a twist or two of the pepper grinder), and add to the bowl.
- mix everything up and let it sit for as long as possible.
- try not to eat it all before it makes its way atop your griddle cakes, or whatever other lucky dish gets graced with this most luxurious condiment

love,
emily

and they called it choco-looooove

what is it about the stereotype that all women love chocolate - and eat it in times of need - that so often rings true? or am i confusing it with the stereotype that i, more specifically, love chocolate and eat it any time i can? i will honestly say that this is not due to the upcoming 'holiday', but i've really been on a chocolate kick lately (as proof that it's not because of v-day, i will have you know that i started this post eight days ago and just now am finishing it! laziness, thanks for coming to my rescue on this one).

after i became vegan a few years ago (it'll be my 3 year anniversary in march!), chocolate seemed like it was just one of those things i couldn't have. oh sure, peanut chews are delightful and you might find one or two bars in a gourmet or health food shop if you read every single ingredient label, but i pretty much stuck with baking homemade desserts for myself. a few months ago, i started noticing random bars of chocolate in the kitchen, tucked into this nook or that cranny, nestled between the raisins and the cashews or hidden behind the panko bread crumbs. what is this, dark chocolate with crystallized ginger? ahoy there, 43% soy milk ecuadorian vintage plantations bar. then my mom gave us trader joe's organic dark chocolate truffle bars for christmas and things just skyrocketed from there.

since then, i've been buying, trying, exploring, testing and tasting all different kinds of special, fancy, interesting and/or gourmet vegan chocolate and chocolate products. does someone up there like me? or is the lack of milkfat, whey, buttermilk, milk solids or butter a sign of quality? i'm not one to judge, but i will say that these chocolates are BANGING. wait, i am one to judge.

behold, my newest favorite:


chocolove, i love you. and each chocolate bar has a little love poem printed on the inside. so what if they are mostly cheesy, or boring, or don't really make sense, it's the thought that counts. and did i mention the combination of chocolate and raspberries does things to me that nothing else really can?

yesterday i had a chocolate craving at work and what do ya know, hershey's chocolate syrup is vegan! i wouldn't normally buy or ingest this corn syrup laden product, but in times of desperation, a vegan hot chocolate will surely do!

last night's vegan balsamic fudge drops made by our trusty vegan sidekick, tony, only furthered my cravings for chocolate + a fudgey texture. enter: awesome foods raw chocolate coconut goji berry fudge. i was introduced to the awesome foods brand when i first started working at willow creek, and i do like most of their stuff. i had never bought the chocolate goji fudge because it's rather pricey, but after trying it at work last weekend, i'm hooked. it has a super fudgey texture and coconutty flavor, and a little textural crunch from the goji berries and i guess it's good for me so i don't mind popping one at, oh, 9 am, before breakfast.

lastly, but not leastly, ho ho no, not least, tonight, i will be embarking upon a chocolate journey thanks to one of my favorite blogs, Mac & Cheese. i'm going to make her recently posted Coconut Truffles, as well as last year's Vegan Red Velvet Cupcakes. i don't know if she knows it, but i have a food crush on that girl. maybe i'll send her a valentine this year. or maybe a special cookie will suffice. nothing says i love you quite like chocolate. oh wait, there's that holiday talk again. maybe this year, chocolate can just be my lover?

food womb

o, horizons, mother of them all. for years you have nourished the people of philadelphia with true culinary vegan genius. you have given the naysayers of vegetarian dining a miso marinated middle finger, a delicately pan seared F U. you have given our taste buds a magic carpet ride, you have put a joyful song in our hearts and bellies.

last week, to celebrate our friend halimah's new found freedom from employment (and the inauguration of our very special 44th president), we made a reservation for 4 in the food womb. let us amend our ode above: horizons, while a spectacular vegan dining experience, is not perfect. the artwork on the walls is laughably bad and the service, while totally acceptable, is a little overbearing. we were waited on by no less than 4 people, which always kind of rubs me the wrong way; one server + busser seems like plenty. fancier restaurants always seem to want to pile the workers on your table, and why? anyway, we're not writing this post to critique the ambiance or waitstaff. we're writing to talk about food!

the booze: i arrived half an hour earlier than the rest and sat at the bar and read a wondrous book. i ordered a bottle of sprecher bavarian black lager, which was dark, smooth and malty, the perfect pint for a ten degree january evening. when the girls arrived and we were seated, halimah promptly ordered a martini straight up with olives and the rest of us decided on a $28 bottle of red. i forget what it was called, but it was from france! it was sort of a one-note pony, but that note was mild and juicy and nothing to complain about. it also sported a charming label, never a bad thing:

sipping our spirits by the soft candlelight, we came to the group consensus to order the chef's tasting menu: a 5 course, $45 per person parade of delights. can you argue with 5 courses? no.

first up: a winter vegetable bouillabaisse with a roasted red pepper pesto crouton. it was a charming soup, with a one-of-each selection of small, tender vegetables in a hearty, but refined, tomato broth. the stand out for me was the single, buttery, elegant brussel sprout, floating in the bowl like an emerald.


the second course was a wild mushroom crepe topped with a golden beet tartare and seaweed caviar. it sat in a nice truffle cream dotted with sharp parsley puree. the crepe itself had a right-on texture, just the right amount of spongy. the flavors were well balanced and the caviar was (according to the lone diner who has tasted the fish egg variety) eerily similar to the "real" thing. as a second course goes, it was a tempered medium of rich flavors without being too heavy.


third course was a riff on mock scallops: pan seared tofu rounds on a creamy hearts of palm risotto, with pesto and kalamata olives. the texture of the tofu was lovely (though really like a scallop? probably not), and the risotto was nicely cooked. however, the pesto was terribly over salted and invaded the entirety of the dish. i guzzled the remainder of my second glass of wine just to help it go down easier. while not ruined per se, the dish was disappointing to me for this reason. the others at the table agreed that their portions were also salted with too heavy a hand. this is a bummer because i've never had anything but righteously seasoned food at horizons and this was the first dish to deviate from that winning streak. nevertheless, we cleaned our respective plates. this is what they looked like before:


lauren here, taking over for the last two courses (you know i had to review the desserts!). our fourth course would fall under the label as 'entree' as it were. it consisted of grilled seitan with smoky eggplant over braised black beluga lentils with a grain mustard sauce. as much as i hate to talk smack on the best/only vegan gourmet restaurant in the city, much like the pesto topped pan seared tofu, this dish was sorely over salted. while the seitan had a beautiful texture and a solid grilled flavor, the smoky eggplant was nowhere to be found and the black lentils tasted more like black beans. the whole shebang was topped with an "avocado taco" which was really just a tortilla chip with a dollop of guac. i didn't really understand where this fit in with the rest of the dish, except i suppose it complemented the black bean-like lentils, but i don't think those were even supposed to taste like black beans in the first place. weird, BUT, still damn edible and the mustard sauce really rounded out the seitan nicely. once again, no plates went uncleaned:


as our plates were cleared, we wondered aloud, "how can we possibly eat dessert?" let me just say first and foremost, i love dessert. (when i was little, i pretty much had a problem, a sugar problem. at a picnic once, i asked my mom when i could have dessert and she sternly told me to finish my lunch. "but mom, the cookies are calling me!" - if that's any indication.) however, i usually don't eat dessert when i'm out to dinner because i'm just too full. at home, dessert - a square of fancy chocolate, a cookie, a few bites of ice cream - is eaten a half hour to an hour after dinner, once the dishes have been done, the leftovers put away, the wine bottle emptied and the party moved to the living room couch. it's then that i've had enough time to digest and need to satisfy that one little tiny space in my stomach saying "sugar. sugarrrr!" however, at our chef's tasting, a mere eight to ten minutes passed before our dessert platter arrived. yes, i said platter:


left to right: coconut cheesecake, cinnamon ice cream, peanut butter bomb chocolate cake. sighhhh. the little sliver of coconut cheesecake was a silky creamy consistency and touted a not-to-sweet coconutiness. the tiniest mini melon ball sized scoop of ice cream was delicately spiced, and the icy texture was a nice respite from most overly fatty store bought brands. what really took the cake (ha!) was the pb bomb cake. i would say it was the bomb, but i can only fit so many puns in. it was a moist, dense chocolate cake topped with peanut butter mousse and the whole thing was dipped in chocolate, dusted with crushed peanuts and drizzled with more chocolate! whew. this was a pretty decent size piece of cake and was very decadent. i would have been totally fine if this was the only dessert they had brought, and probably a bit less painfully full as well.

we sat and finished the wine, our used napkins thrown in like towels after a particularly rigorous boxing match, and talked until the rest of the dining room was empty. we toasted halimah and her generosity. she thanked us for coming with her, and we thanked her for not using her gift card for four solo visits instead of bringing us along. i don't know the next time we'll be back to the food womb, but i do know that each and every time i emerge a reborn vegan.