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

pop!

just a quick little note about a special kind of beverage lauren, alex and i recently encountered. guess what - it's not beer! fooled ya. it's good old fashioned soda pop! which is a genre of drink we rarely tango with. sure, an ice cold diet coke from a gas station in ohio in the middle of a summer road trip is one thing. there too is a time and a place for a big splash of ginger ale to mellow out some whiskey. but when it comes to non-beer bubbles, the sisters kovach almost religiously drink seltzer (add some juice, it's called "so-jay") and not much else. i kind of like to think about seltzer like regular soda with all its make up scrubbed off.

so then why, the other week, did we order 2 bottles of soda pop alongside our slices of succulent vegan pizza at blackbird? well, we're suckers for great packaging and wacky flavors, and that about explains it:

DRY soda, a relatively new small company based in seattle, cranks out beautiful, clear, sparkling beverages in lovely bottles, infused with unconventional and creative flavors. each bottle contains only 45-70 calories, and between 11-19 grams of cane sugar. this is just a fraction of what is in "regular" soda. so despite our normal FU attitude towards pop, i ordered the cucumber, and lauren got lavender, though our other choices included blood orange, rhubarb, vanilla bean, and more. although still a bit sweet for my taste, the flavors harnessed in these sodas were amazing! the cuke was dry and smooth, and the lavender was floral and light, but not in a soapy or overtly fragrance-y ways.

DRY really gives a shit about its shit. even the briefest perusal of their website will prove as much. each soda flavor has its own page describing the flavor profile, food pairing ideas, and cocktail recipes. while i'm still a major proponent of making your own simple syrup or liquor infusions, all the DRY flavors would be out-of-control good in a boozy drink. might not buy this stuff by the case, but for a treat once in awhile, i'll totally go for it.

bonus- a few photos of blackbird's sexy za, best vegan pie in the city:

mushroom & potato

alright, stop drooling! if you haven't been to blackbird yet, the time is now. i think they even deliver...

love,

emily

morning, sunshine

after nearly an entire year of eating the same thing for breakfast every weekday morning, i'm switching it up! don't worry, i haven't gone all eggs and bacon on you. in fact, to the naked eye, these changes won't seem like much at all. but look little closer, and you'll see that these changes are indeed significant: oatmeal and quinoa porridge replaced the granola, muffins replaced the toast, coffee replaced tea. the old yogurt and granola routine was good, but the deep winter calls for more substantial, fortifying fare.

the porridge is a really rad technique that i learned from the candle cafe cookbook. basically, before you go to bed one night, measure out a cup each of irish steel cut oats and quinoa. put them in a pot and cover with water and add a pinch of salt. let them soak all night while you're dreaming of intergalactic adventures, and in the morning, turn the heat on while you're preparing your lunch for the day. once it comes to a boil, bring it back down to a simmer, stirring occasionally with a spatula. you might need to add some more liquid - stirring in some soy or almond milk instead of water really lends a rich, silky quality to the porridge. coconut milk would be truly luxurious. after about 15 minutes of simmering, it should be ready! scoop some in a bowl, top with yogurt, chopped nuts and fruits, and a drizzle of agave nectar or a little scoop of brown sugar.

i used to think that steel cut oats took, like, an hour to cook, but the overnight soak shaves off well over half the time. it's really worth it to think just a little bit ahead and treat your body to the higher protein experience of steel cut oats. they beat the nutritional pants off their rolled or quick-cooking counterparts. i think they taste a lot better, too. if you do start with a whole cup of each grain, you'll have lots of leftovers, which makes the next few day's worth of breakfasts a snap!

sort of looks like the cat is wearing a big top hat!

the tea-to-coffee upgrade has come courtesy of my favorite new little kitchen gadget: a manual one-cup coffee maker, which is about as awesomely low-technology as it gets. sure, the plastic kind (as shown above) is not as sexy as the porcelain type i've been seeing around, but it cost $2 and gets the job done. some people claim that the one-cup drip method develops the deepest, best flavor, better even than the beloved french press, but i haven't noticed any huge improvement. it's just fast and easy, as all things in the morning should be, takes one second to clean, and always makes me feel like a cool bachelor.

finally, the muffins - which are probably the healthiest thing i've ever baked EVER - come from a vegan cookbook i checked out of the library, ripe from around here, by jae steele. the book, while a tad on the hippie dippy side for my taste, is pretty solid. the author, a cute canadian who also maintains a food/health & wellness blog, is very interested in eating locally and sustainably, tailoring diet toward the season, avoiding refined foods and animal products...you know, all that vegan stuff. she manages to do this mostly without seeming preachy or dogmatic, though she almost lost me in the segment where she suggests giving up bananas because of their politically fraught past and the carbon footprint they create. are you rolling your eyes a little bit, too?

anyway, the cookbook includes some old standards (stir fries, pancakes, etc.) and some more interesting stuff, too (homemade oat milk, creamy kale soup, blueberry lavender ice cream). these muffins really caught my eye because they just looks so insanely healthy and simple. carrots, raisins, dates and seeds make these like a complete meal unto themselves. indeed, every morning when i eat one, i feel the vitamins and minerals coursing through me!


Morning Glory Muffins
adapted from "ripe from around here" by jae steele
~makes 12-18 muffins~
~takes about 50 minutes, including baking time~

ingredients:
2 cups spelt flour (i actually didn't cheat and use all purpose, but it'd be fine if you did)
1/4 rolled oats
2 tsp baking powder
1 tsp baking soda
1 tsp cinnamon
1/2 tsp allspice
1/2 tsp sea salt
1 & 1/2 cups grated carrots (the grating attachment on the food processor is a real hero, here)
3/4 cups raisins or currants
1/3 cup pumpkin or sunflower seeds
1 cup packed, chopped and pitted dates, soaked in very hot water for at least 20 minutes
1/2 cup safflower oil
1 cup apple cider (or apple or orange juice - or all three!)
2 tbsp apple cider vinegar

- preheat the oven to 375F and prepare a muffin tin with liners.

- boil water to pour over the dates. let them soak while you're getting everything else together.

- stir together the flour, oats, baking soda and powder, spices and salt in a large bowl. add the carrots, currants and seeds, and stir it up, making sure all the little bits get coated in flour.

- put the softened dates and the water they soaked in in a food processor and blend until smooth. while it's running, slowly pour in the oil, and then the apple cider or orange juice.

- scrape this mixture into the dry ingredients and mix until just combined. add the vinegar and stir just a bit more to make sure all the flour is absorbed. overmixing can make the muffins too tough!

- pour the batter into the muffin tin. she claims that this makes 12 muffins, but i ended up with enough batter to make 18. maybe i didn't fill the tins up enough? anyway, it all worked out in the end.

- bake for 22-25 minutes, til a toothpick inserted in the middle comes out clean. let them cool for a few minutes in the pans, then move to a cooling rack.

- her recipe says they only keep for 2 days unless refrigerated, but i've been chipping away at the batch i made for at least a week, and after a few minutes in the toaster they're almost good as new.

love,
emily

thanks for the dranks

even though we've been back from Houston for over 3 weeks now, i can't stop reminiscing about our adventures there. maybe it's because philadelphia has been getting pelted with all manner of frozen precipitation ever since our return, and i long to go back to that sunny patio where we sat and drank iced coffee. maybe it's because seeing our dear mary was a sharp reminder of how intensely she is missed here. or maybe it's that the routine of working, schlepping home on the septa bus, and "being cozy" (that is, staying in to avoid the cold) is making me long for another vacation.

regardless, one facet of the houston trip that has stayed with me is the creative, lovely cocktails that we sipped at a few places across town. at home, i'm rarely drawn to bars that offer the new class of craft or pre-prohibition mixed drinks. the steep price tags and my unyielding love of beer may be to blame. chick's is just a block away from my house, and i've stopped in a few times, but with no real regularity. the wonderful southwark, too, is just a stone's throw away from my abode, but i like to reserve my trips there for special occasions. the thing about vacations is, is that every day is a special occasion! especially when you're cavorting around with three of your best lady friends, it doesn't take much convincing to order a fancy drink once the sun has gone down.

while on the plane en route to texas, lauren and i took turns thumbing through the most recent issue of saveur. in their "top 100" feature, the head chef at dolce vita was quoted about some crazy salad they serve, and we said, almost simultaneously, "we should totally go there!" and so, we did. the food turned out being great, and the drinks fully held up their side of things. we ordered these appertifs before our antipasti arrived, and they primed our palates for the delicious food to come.

vodka cocktail, with lemon and basil

negroni with a big splash of prosecco

anvil, a "bar + refuge" (oh geez), located on a jumping strip of westheimer, was packed out on a friday night, and the skilled fleet of bartenders were moving like soldiers on a mission. and while the bar had some pretty whimsical and weird drinks on its menu, it was what i would consider a serious place. once you placed your order, the bartender would literally fly into action, never needing to so much as glance at a recipe or menu to double check one of the eight obscure ingredients. they poured, stirred, shook, and served with absolute precision.

"the diplomat:" gin, bonal, curacao, maraschino, orange bitters

halimah and i fought our way through the yuppie crowd and both ordered the diplomat, a heady and strong cocktail which i assume earned its namesake from the around-the-world nature of its ingredient: gin (england/the netherlands), bonal (france), curacao (the caribbean), maraschino (italy) and bitters (well, i guess those could be made anywhere). i loved the delicate glasses they were served in, which inspired me to buy a few of my own on a recent thrifting binge:

the cheapest happy hour: a homemade vodka martini

another stand out drink i had was at a funny joint, beavers, which involved lemon and marigold infused vodka, made with flowers right from the restaurant's garden. i didn't get to snap a photo of this drink, but it was a perfect balance of floral (not soapy, just fresh), citrusy, and dry. like summertime in a cup. just thinking about that little glass of joy makes me smile, and helps me to remember that there is a light at the end of this wintry tunnel.

love,

emily

motto: friendship

lauren, halimah and i recently got back from a westerly sojourn to visit our dearest friend mary in houston,tx where she is studying architecture at rice university. besides little overnight trips here and there, this was my first real experience with a ladies only vacation. and let me tell you - it was amazing! we bonded deeply over serious confessions, embarrassing stories, nonsense jokes and sex talk. we stayed up late, whispered once the lights were out, slept in daily, traded accessories, shooed off male suitors in bars, and drove around listening to oldies.

but, perhaps most importantly, we ate and drank our asses off. from the high brow to the low brow, we left no culinary stone unturned. during a week when most americans are cursing themselves for their holiday indulgences, and swearing to do better this time around, our appetites took houston by storm. we scarfed trashy tex mex at chuy's, gorgeous waffles at baby barnaby's, light-as-a-feather gourmet pizzas at dolce vita, and simply perfect avocado tacos from the truck adjacent to possibly the best dive bar that side of the mississippi, the west alabama ice house.

my favorite meals, though, were the ones we prepared for ourselves in mary's tiny, charming kitchen. except for sunday brunch, we made breakfast each morning, small, balanced little meals, much like the ones i make at home before work. toast, coffee, yogurt, fruit.

there were a few lovely home cooked dinners, as well, usually preceded by a hasty trip to the nearby h-e-b for ingredients and beer. buying a 12-pack of cheap craft beer in a grocery store is such a succinct pleasure for a pennsylvanian. back at home base, we'd share the prep work with jangly tunes from the college radio station as our soundtrack. the fragrance from the simmering pot filled the small apartment, and a voice from the couch would pipe up, "what smells so good?" while i whipped up the salad dressing, mary would spread out her prized vintage place mats, and uncork the wine. finally, we would all sit down together, a tender ritual that recalled the glory days when we all lived under one roof in west philadelphia.

my favorite dinner was on saturday night. at that point, we'd been in houston for a few days and had all fallen into an easy groove with one another. there were still a few days standing between us and our departure, and if i stretched my imagination a bit, i could pretend that we'd never have to say goodbye. earlier that day, we drove out to galveston to rest our eyes on the gulf of mexico and explore the meager town. standing with my bare toes in the sand in early january, the wind whipping through the beleaguered palm trees, felt cinematic and intense.

as we returned to houston, restless from the sluggish highway traffic, we pulled off for late afternoon milkshakes from a charming diner. an hour later, overloaded on sugar and a bit regretful for it, we were all craving something inoffensive and clean for our pummeled palates. mary, who somehow always knows what's right for every occasion, suggested a fennel-studded tomato soup recipe from a homemade life, the beautiful memoir and cookbook from one of our favorite bloggers, molly wizenberg. lauren gifted me this book for christmas and i'd devoured nearly all of it on the plane ride from philly to houston just days before, so it seemed extra fitting. single handedly and with the grace of a true cook, mary put together the most splendid meal i've had in ages.

alongside the tomato fennel soup was a salad of lightly dressed bitter greens with apples and shaved aged provolone, a hunk of 3-seeded bread, and roasted cauliflower with a pungent, citrusy sauce. it was flawless. after the plates were cleared and the dishes done, we played rounds and rounds of our favorite card game, which became increasingly rowdy with each beer we drank. at some hazier point in the night, we popped a bottle of prossecco, and toasted to our love, which is especially appropriate in texas, where the state motto is "friendship."

Tomato Soup with 2 Fennels

from "A Homemade Life," by Molly Wizenberg

~serves 4-6 (generous helpings)~

~takes about 40 minutes~

ingredients:

3 tablespoons olive oil

1 yellow onion, thinly sliced

2 medium fennel bulbs, trimmed and thinly sliced (save some of the fronds for garnish)

4-5 cloves of garlic, finely chopped

1 teaspoon fresh thyme or 1/2 tsp dried thyme

2 28 ounce cans whole or chopped tomatoes

water

3/4 teaspoon salt

sugar, to taste

pepper and vinegar, to taste

- in a dutch oven or soup pot, heat the olive oil over medium heat. add the chopped onions and fennel, and sautee for 5 minutes.

- add the garlic, thyme and fennel seeds. cook, stirring occasionally, for another 5-8 minutes.

- if using whole canned tomatoes, crush them in a food processor, with your hands, or however else you'd like. if using pre-crushed, no need to crush further. in any case, add the tomatoes and their juices to the pot and stir everything together.

- fill one of the now empty tomato cans with water and add to the mixture.

- turn the heat down, and let the soup gently simmer, uncovered, for 40-45 minutes.

- when the fennel is very tender, and the tomatoes have reduced to make the soup taste full-bodied, it's done! add salt and pepper to taste. if the soup is too acidic for you, a pinch of sugar will mellow it out. if you want a little more bite, add a small splash of red wine vinegar.

- ladle into soup bowls, and top with a pinch of fennel fronds, and a dollop of yogurt or sour cream (optional, of course!).

- serve, very hot, preferably to a table of your best friends.

love,

emily

paesono's, eat your heart out

now it's no surprise that us VR sisters love our sammiches. tempeh, tofu, seitan or just some veggies and hummus will satisfy us for brunch, lunch, dinner or even that late night snack. it's fun to watch the ingredients of a sandwich change over the seasons. summer gives us eggless salad, lettuce and ripe tomatoes in a wrap versus that ooey gooey grilled cheese or seitan steak that fills a winter belly and warms cold bones.

i've been making about a sandwich a week these days, almost exclusively using tempeh in a variety of different forms. gone are the light tempeh chicken salad sammies of spring, replaced by smokey tempeh bacon, red wine glazed tempeh strips or spicy bbq tempeh crumbles.

somehow a sandwich of epic proportion came together last week. i decided to next level some shit and purchased maitake (hen of the woods) mushrooms from work on a whim. next thing i know, onions and italian peppers were being caramelized, tempeh was triple hot sauce-ized and kale was getting a healthy shower of lemon and red pepper flakes. spread some veganaise on a fresh ciabatta and there in front of me was a sandwich so full i could barely close it.



a pickle on the side and a southern tier old man winter ale rounded this meal out nicely. a belly so full i could have gone into hibernation after this, but knowing, instead, i could do it all again tomorrow, if i was ever hungry again.

i was pretty much "winging it" when i made the tempeh, but i do believe it was based on a vague memory of the recipe in Isa Chandra Moskowitz's Veganomicon. Enjoy!

hot sauce glazed tempeh
by Isa Chandra Moskowitz

ingredients
8 ounce package of tempeh
1/2 cup wine (whatever you have in the cupboard, just nothing too sweet)
1/4 cup hot sauce (i used a blend of frank's, crystal and tapatio)
2 tablespoons olive oil
2 tablespoons soy sauce
3 tablespoons fresh lemon juice (juice from 1 lemon)
2 cloves garlic, crushed
1 teaspoon cumin
1/2 teaspoon oregano
1/8 teaspoon cayenne pepper
(i add a a 1/8 teaspoon of pimenton - smoked paprika !!)

directions
- bring a pot of water to boil.

- whisk all marinade ingredients together in a bowl large enough to fit the tempeh slices.

- cut the tempeh into strips. when the water is boiling, add the tempeh, lower the heat and steam for 10 minutes.

- remove the tempeh and then immediately place in the marinade bowl for 1 hour, flipping every now again to cover with the marinade.

- preheat a greased grill pan over medium high heat. to grease it, brush lightly with olive oil. (you can also pan fry,which is what i did, but it won't have those nice grill marks!)

- grill each side for 5 minutes. when the second side is almost done, spoon some of the marinade over the tempeh and let cook for 30 more seconds. (or, saute until golden and crispy!)

screw your rez

and eat cake for breakfast! i'm only half kidding. on the one hand, i respect that the beginning of each new calendar year is as good a time as any to re-evaluate your habits, priorities and decision-making logic. sometimes we get in routines and ruts without hardly noticing, and a shocking amount of time can go by without pausing to wonder why. maybe jan 1 is an arbitrary time to stop and take stock, but for for some reason - either manufactured or natural - it is cemented in our culture as the time to do just that.

on the other hand, the idea of a clean, refreshed slate is nice, especially after the holiday fetes and feasts that define december. and surely, setting new goals and tidying up one's physical and/or mental state is a healthy practice every now and again. but something about the way we even talk about "resolutions" seems to imply an inevitable tapering off of discipline and eventual failure. i've never been a fan of capital D diets or exercise fads, and the dawning of the new year spawns a nauseating number of both. seeing copious beautiful salad recipes and "7 Days of Juicing!" features gracing mainstream magazine covers is better than the ubiquitous glistening slab of protein, but i wish versions of these articles were written year round, not just during the be-a-better-you season.

thus, i appreciated this dose of sanity from our man mark bittman in the most recent issue of bon appetit, which seems to be a reaction to the extremism that dominates the resolution fervor. basically, he just proposes making small but meaningful changes in your diet and lifestyle, ones that you stick with consistently, and that over time, help you make lasting, sustainable progress. what sensible advice! everybody needs a level headed, Dad-like voice to talk them down from the ledge of carb-free crash diets and sugar-free sadness. mark bittman is The Dude of the food world (albeit, with a less bitchin head of hair), and i really admire him. in my dreams, we'll do a J together one day on a balcony overlooking new york city skyline.

an awesome, healthy diet doesn't have to be synonymous with an ascetic lifestyle that will be tempting to abandon every day. i'm pretty certain that both bittman and the dude would want you to take it easy, man. you can even have cake for breakfast! yeah, it's healthy and vegan, but cake is cake, dammit. and alongside a wedge of citrus and a cup of tea, this will kick the old metabolism into high gear. the gentle carbs and walnuts will keep you full until lunchtime, and the touch of whiskey will warm you for the morning commute through the frozen sludge.

Breakfast Cake with Boozy Currants
adapted from Sinfully Vegan by Lois Dieterly
~makes approx 12 slices of cake~
~takes 90 mins, largely unattended~

ingredients:
3 cups all purpose flour
1/2 cup whole wheat pastry flour
2 tsp baking soda
2 tsp cinnamon (or 1 tsp cinnamon, 1 tsp ground ginger)
1/2 teaspoon sea salt
1/3 cup canola oil
1 cup brown sugar
2 tsp ground flax
2 cups unsweetened applesauce
1/2 cup apple cider or apple juice
3/4 cup of currants
1/2 cup chopped walnuts
1/3 cup (maybe a little less) whiskey, bourbon, or dark rum

- put the currants in a small bowl. pour in liquor almost to the top so that mostly all the currants can take a nice booze bath.

- preheat the oven to 350F. lightly coat a bundt pan with canola oil.

- in a large bowl, sift the flour, baking soda, cinnamon (and ginger, if using), and salt.

- in another bowl, with an electric mixer, or briskly by hand, combine the oil and sugar until well mixed.

- in a separate bowl, combine the apple cider and flax powder. whisk with a fork until the flax is dissolved. add this mixture to the oil and sugar.

- beat the applesauce into the wet ingredients, and then work in the dry ingredients until just combined.

- fold in the currants with the liquor, and then the walnuts. stir to incorporate but do not overmix!

- pour the batter into the bundt pan and bake for about 50 minutes. check the cake about 45 minutes in - gently stick a knife or a toothpick into the center part of the cake. if it comes out clean, it's done, and if there are little bits of batter stuck to it, it needs a few more minutes.

- cool in the pan for about 15 minutes. then, flip the bundt pan over and then gently shake to remove the cake from the pan and let cool more fully on a rack. sprinkle with powdered sugar for extra fancy points!


love,
emily