Burgers, Burns and Bites

Memorial Day Weekend 2011 - where is this year going? Mother Nature seems to be taking her cues from National holidays this year ushering in the sweltering summer heat just in time for the "unofficial start of summer".  Personally, I'd be thrilled with 4 more weeks of spring, but I decided to play along with summer's early arrival and head down the shore yesterday to celebrate one of my oldest and dearest friend's birthdays.

At 10:30 a.m. Jimmy and I donned our bathing suits for the first time this season, packed up the car with beach chairs, towels and sunscreen and hit the road.  What should have been less than a 2 hour drive delivered us shore front at roughly 2pm.  Anxious to hit the beach, we quickly found parking and were on the beach in no time.  After an inaugural dip (only ankle deep) in the icy Atlantic, I lathered up with sunscreen and settled in.  Even though it was in the high 80's, there was a cool breeze coming off the ocean and before long I was snoozing on the warm sand. I awoke a couple hours later hungry from the heat and ready to hit the shops and restaurants.  Upon first examination, I didn't appear to be burned but a closer look revealed that my right arm, and only the outer side of my right arm was lobster red. Ugh!  Note to self: apply sunscreen before sun exposure - and yes, hanging your arm out the passenger window on a 31/2 hr drive is sun exposure! As I brushed the sand from my body I noticed I was getting kind of itchy and discovered quite a few welts on my legs and one HUGE one on my forehead.  I initially dismissed them as mosquito bites but when the swelling on my forehead became such that it appeared as if I got conked with a baseball bat and the itching turned to a dull stinging sensation I knew these were no normal mosquitoes (I later found out that I'd been bitten by horseflies - ew!).  Not insect bites nor sunburn were quelling my appetite though so Jimmy and I headed for a quick bite to eat at a local greasy spoon before heading farther south to Atlantic City to continue the birthday festivities.  We returned home around midnight (after doubling my gambling budget on the slot machines - woo hoo!), and after a quick shower and a liberal application of aloe I was more than happy to fall into bed for the night.  I awoke this morning in a bit of a sunburn haze, happy to have the day off from work  and happier yet to be inside in the air conditioning.


Did you know that this weekend is not only Memorial Day, but also another National "holiday"?  It's National Burger Weekend!  As if we didn't already have enough of a reason to fire up the grill and celebrate!  Usually the thought of an unctuous burger dripping with melty cheese and thick slices of bacon is my food porn, but after the damage I did at the beach yesterday (What? Can you blame me? I'm sorry, but strolling down the Boardwalk munching on carrot sticks is not nearly as refreshing as a twisty cone or freshly squeezed lemonade!) a greasy burger is the last thing I want.  But, I'd been kicking around an idea for a lightened up Greek inspired burger with a refreshing Tzaziki sauce for a while now and what better excuse to give it a shot than National Burger Weekend?!

I love a rainy night...

             Or is it rainy days and Mondays always get me down? Usually it's the former,  but after a week of this rain and no end in sight, I'm leaning towards the latter.  And after yet another dreary day in the city, what's better than a bowl of soup?


I worked my first full week at the new job last week and it rained every single day. And not just little showers, full on storms - pelting rain, driving wind and a chill in the air more reminiscent of October than May.  In the afternoons, when it wasn't chilly, the air hung stale and heavy with humidity; making each breath on my walk to the subway suffocating. 


I have a love hate relationship with the city.   I've learned that we are, in the most literal sense, fair weather friends. Unless it's sunny and hovering in the low 70's, I haven't much use for Manhattan and she, likewise, isn't altogether kind to me.  Rain and humidity make me wonder why I bother to do my hair each morning.  When summer comes the stifling heat in the subway will render any make up I've applied completely useless.  And winter - I'm already dreading the bone chilling winter and we've barely begun spring. But, Manhattan isn't without her charms.  The draw of Broadway, the street corner cafes, the wine bars and beer gardens, the quaint streets of the west village, the insomniatic nightlife - all attributes I love to love.  And, once the weather isn't so gloomy, I plan on loving them fully!  In the meantime, though, I think I'll curl up with a bowl of soup, dry and comfy on the couch, and listen to the rain.

Happy Pounds and a Blog Award

I've been a little absent from blogging over the last month but I promise it's been for very good reasons.  Last we knew, I was unemployed, a little lonely and getting very frustrated with my job search. While that's as good a place as any to pick up my story, I think I need to go back even farther.  To summer 2008. It was a big one.

 

You know how people always tell you that once you get your own life in order and stop looking for things, those things will inevitably find you.  Well, it's true; as evidenced by my experiences in late spring/summer of 2008.  I was happily working for a company I liked and had made some great friends there.  I had gone back to school at night and my work schedule allowed me to work full time, take night classes and still have a social life.  I had a great new apartment and I had just met a great new guy (one who I've come to share my life with today).  With all this happiness, stability and comfort in my life, it seemed like the stress pounds that had decided they wanted to be a part of my journey during the previous years were just melting off and by summer of 2008 I was at my goal weight and getting comments such as "holy skinny!" from good friends who hadn't seen me in a while.  Life was good and it only got better for the next 9 months.  Nights out for drinks, dinners and desserts with the new boy, who truly didn't mind a curvier version of me, had started to put on a few "happy pounds" here and there and I found myself back at "within 5 pounds of goal weight" and telling myself "eh, it's only 5 pounds and they're there for the best of reasons!". Then in early 2009, due to company cut backs, I lost my job and became veiled with a slight depression.  It was quickly replaced, however, with the realization that I now had even more time to spend with the boy - and, of course, most of that time was spent consuming yummy deliciousness of the liquid and solid variety.  The ups and downs continued for the next year and a half to 2 years, battling fruitless job searches, one truly horrific job that lasted only a short time, one truly horrific break up that lasted only a short time, one truly fantastic job that lasted only a short time and another unemployment that lasted much longer than it should have - which brings me to where I left off with my last posts.  

On a Friday in late April, I received a call from a recruiter in NYC wanting an interview to discuss my experience and what I was looking for.  We scheduled an interview for the following Monday.  I'd worked with this recruiting company before without much success so I was expecting the interview to go as such: "It was a pleasure meeting you. You have an impressive resume. I'll put my feelers out and we'll be in touch." then go weeks without hearing so much as a peep.  Needless to say, I was pleasantly surprised when I left my recruiter's office with an interview with his client scheduled for 3pm that same afternoon! By 4pm I had the feeling that I aced my first interview and my suspicions were confirmed before I had even exited the subway with a voicemail from my recruiter saying they loved me and wanted to schedule a second interview a.s.a.p.  We had it scheduled for Wednesday morning as I boarded the train home.  Doug and I celebrated my successful interview with dinner out and a bottle of wine that night.  Wednesday morning's interview came and went in a flash and I had that same feeling of success as I walked to the train station. I boarded an early afternoon train home and by 3pm I had an offer letter in hand.  I happily accepted and Doug and I celebrated with an impressive fondue dinner (and many drinks) at the Melting Pot.  I started my new job on Monday, May 2nd.  

Three days later Doug and I left for a week long vacation to Northern California.  It was a whirlwind trip  from San Francisco and Oakland to Reno, NV to Lake Tahoe to Napa Valley and back again.  The week was filled with many drinks, much wine and some of the best food I've ever eaten - and lots of it! And, as I'm sure you've gathered, a few more "happy pounds".  But, now I'm back to the grind.  Finding my days are much longer than ever before and the temptation to just grab something on the go greater than ever.  It's time to buckle down and do what I do best - cook healthy foods that are just as tasty as they are balanced and good for us - with the goal of losing a few pounds but keeping the happy!  

Beef Stroganoff and Daddy Issues

Living an hour away from my family and friends can sometimes be harrowing.  Doug works long and erratic hours. I don't work at all.  So, I spend a lot of time alone, or with the dogs.  If I lived back in NY, I'd be surrounded by a bevy of family and friends.  Instead, simple girlfriend get-togethers require much more planning than ever before - partly due to evolving lives and growing families, still I can't help but believe the added distance is a factor.  Family dinners are reduced to mostly holidays and special occasions. For the most part, I'm not complaining.  Even with it's occasional pitfalls and difficulties, I love my life.  I have a wonderful supportive man who allows me just enough wallowing before lighting a motivational fire under my tush, the time we spend together is filled with love and laughter and when I do get to see my family and friends, it's usually somewhat of a grand event.  

There is just one thing that's been eating at me.  It's been eating at my father too, but not in the way he'd prefer.  It's something he mentions with every new blog post and the physical distance between us is, without a doubt, the culprit. A staunch supporter of my blog, as is the rest of my family, dad loves reading my prose but simply reading the recipes just isn't cutting it.  Culinarily challenged, he is a bit gun shy about attempting my recipes but exhibits no hesitation in reminding me (with great regularity) that "dear old dad" has yet to sample my dishes.  

However, last December, Doug and I had the pleasure of hosting my parents for a simple dinner.  It was a lovely evening and this dish was the star - at least for us carnivores (mom, being pescevegetarian, feasted on a huge salad and some noodles (next time they come for dinner, though, I'm making this)).  Dad raved about dinner then, and can now say that he's tasted (at least one of) my recipes.  So, dad, this one's for you!  

Toaster Oven Chicken Tenders & Cheesy Mashed Potatoes

Sometimes you just need comfort food.  Today was one of those days.  Actually, many days lately have been one of those days. I've been really needing to cloak myself in a big, enveloping comfort food hug.

You see, I lost my job last year.  A job I loved, working for a company I believed in, where I was successful and well respected. You know, a rarity!  I'd only been with the company for a few short months but had already been promoted, was an integral member of the CEO's management team and had forged some really great friendships.  I was, dare I say it, happy.  Wait...what?  She's happy? Cue disaster. Get misery and depression on the phone, we need them on stand-by. And so, on that balmy Monday afternoon in mid-July, when disaster apparently had nothing better to do, it all came tumbling down.  

I suppose, if you're the kind of person who believes in signs, you may have seen this coming.  What began as a sunny morning commute foretold what was to come when no sooner did I set foot out of the car in the office parking lot than the sky took on an ominous shade of gray.  Every trace of blue vanished and clouds rolled in as I walked into the building, down the hall and towards my office. Plunging the key into the lock on my office door, I turned the handle in synchronicity with the first thunderclap.  The skies opened up and rain pelted my office window, hard.  I gazed outside as my computer booted up, too distracted by the cacophony of the storm to notice the prescient text message that had arrived from my closest work friend.  "Whatever happens today, I love you Jour and am glad you are a part of my life.". Concerned, I frantically dialed Jessica's number. Voicemail, damn.  

Moments later she came sweeping into my office with breaking news, a look of despair on her face.  The CEO's daughter, she had information about events that had transpired over the weekend, and behind closed doors, with teary eyes, we talked about the impending death of our beloved corporation.  Long story short, we were forced into a chapter 7 bankruptcy by lenders and private equities firms who saw us as a write off.  The livelihood of close to 100 dedicated employees reduced to little more than black numbers on a white page.  The shades of gray lie in the bewildered glances exchanged.  In the line of former employees sitting on the curb, boxes holding months and years of their professionals lives next to them, wondering how to get home to loved ones who were hours, if not many states away, when our company cars were no longer company property.  In the farewell hugs and the abundance tears.  In the taxed looks on the faces of people who were, simply, a tax write off.

That evening was one of the hardest nights of my life.  I couldn't take phone calls from concerned friends and family because I couldn't stop crying long enough to talk.  I couldn't eat, couldn't sleep.   Hell, I could barely catch my breath. That was 9 months and countless emailed resumes ago.  In this time, I've gotten, if I'm being generous, maybe 10 responses.  Most emails get ignored leading me to believe that the digital age has done little more than give us yet another medium with which to be rude.  Phone calls go unanswered, messages unreturned and the couple of recruiters I've actually spoken with have been kind enough to make the decision for me that either a) the commute was too far or b) the pay was too low.  Head, wall,  I believe you 2 have met.  Bang, bang bang.

I had my first interview since being laid off last week.  If you ask me, if went really well; I'm perfectly qualified, they didn't blink at my salary requirements, the owner and I are both dog lovers (his Jack Russell even spends time in the office). Yet, here it is, a week later and...nothing.  Obviously, there are good days and bad and I know things will eventually change, but I'm just not feeling the love on the job front.  So, you know that feeling of love that comes from having a belly full of homemade comfort food?  The kind that takes you in, wraps you up and makes you feel like a happy, protected 5 year old?  That is what I needed (albeit with slightly fewer calories)! 

Bean Curd and Bucket Lists

Recently, a fellow blogger got me thinking about bucket lists. We all have one, whether scrawled on the back of an envelope, meticulously enumerated on a "to-do" list or not so indelibly etched with our mental pencils. Mine was the to-do list variety; bulleted points, each carefully printed with an extra fine tip Sharpie (my "this is important" pen).  Sadly, my actual list was lost during one of umpteen moves in as many years.  I don't think it's lost for good, but more likely is packed away with half of my life in a storage unit in NY. I remember never keeping the list readily accessible, preferring instead to hide it away somewhere where I'd only come across it once or twice a year. It was fun to see not only what I'd accomplished and how far I'd come, but as the list got older, the kinds of things I'd aspired to all those years ago. It was always good for a teensy feeling of accomplishment as well as a chuckle or 2 at my younger self. The last time I stumbled upon the list, I was able to cross off a couple of items, one due to accomplishment (get a tattoo - I now have 2) the other due to physical restrictions following a car accident and subsequent injury (go skydiving). I got to thinking how sad it was that I'd had so many opportunities to skydive prior to my accident and never took any of them. The excuses were plentiful albeit, if I'm being honest, lame. Once, I was too busy at work. Another time I couldn't justify spending the money.  Yet another time a friend gave me too little notice.  Looking back, all I can tell myself is: work to live, don't live to work, what good is the money if you can't enjoy it and a little spontaneity never hurt anyone.

These days, I don't often think about my bucket list but my goals have evolved over the years.  Seeing as my first list was created in my early 20's and contained such deep and discerning ideas such as "get a tattoo", "swim with dolphins" and "name a star", I decided to establish (at least the beginnings of) my new 30-something bucket list right here. In no particular order, here goes:

• Re-master my command of the French language
• Master another language (Italian)
• Test my mastery of both languages by returning to France, and visiting my family in Italy
• Travel more - eat my way across the country and around the world
• Learn more about wine
• Go back to school and pursue a career change involving either my first love (science/medicine) or my enduring love (cooking/baking)
• Do/learn something new every day 
• Write a cookbook
• Start a family
• Commit fully to a healthy lifestyle 
• Make time for the people who enrich my life
• Learn to let go of the toxic people who don't

That's a pretty ambitious start, but there's room for one more:

• Find new and exciting ways to create protein rich, meatless meals like this one

Italian Style Quinoa and Sausage Stuffed Peppers

I've never considered myself particularly trendy, preferring instead to play the chameleon and attempt to blend in in most situations.  However, I will say this:  when it comes to culinary creations, I do like to stay on forefront of emerging eating and cooking trends.  So I was pleasantly surprised when I hopped online today and saw an abundance of recipes featuring quinoa on some of my favorite sites.  I have to admit, I haven't been cooking with quinoa for terribly long, but I enjoy it immensely and have SO many ideas for recipes featuring this amazing little seed!  It's nice to know I'm in good company.

Quinoa has been touted as a "superfood" and the more I work with it, the more I'm inclined to agree.  If you're a quinoa newbie, here are a few things you should know:

1. It looks like a grain, but is actually a seed.

2. It is a complete protein (containing an almost ideal balance of all 9 essential amino acids), is high in fiber, is nutrient rich (calcium, iron, manganese, magnesium, vitamin E and B vitamins) and is gluten free.

3. It's a good idea to soak/rinse it before cooking. Quinoa has a coating called saponin on it's surface that can produce a bitter soapy quality when cooked.  Granted, most of what you'll find at the local grocery store has already been pre-washed and dried, but in my opinion, a little prevention never hurt anyone.

4. There are 3 color varieties: white, red and black.  I've only come across the white variety to date but you can rest assured that as soon as I see either of the others they'll be on the dinner table that very night!

5. Working with quinoa is very similar to cooking rice, and a bit like couscous. There are a couple different methods for cooking it: boiling (like pasta) vs absorption (like rice).  I'm still trying to find my preference.

6.  It's delicious!  The texture is somewhere between that of barley and couscous...light and fluffy yet with a toothsome bite and slight crunch.  The flavor has the earthy nuttiness of wild rice but, more reserved, not as aggressive.

7. It's versatile!  Breakfast, lunch or dinner , hot or cold, side dish or main course - quinoa can seamlessly integrate into almost any meal!

Smoky Southwest Turkey Meatballs

Sometimes necessity really does breed invention.  Such was the case with these meatballs.  It started with a package of ground turkey a few days shy of its expiration date.  I needed to get this turkey out of the fridge and fast so the brainstorm began.  Turkey burgers?  Not tonight and besides, they are so much better when grilled outside on a perfect 70 degree evening, 2 puppies playing at our feet, and with my grill master away for the night, this was not that perfect 70 degree evening. A Greek twist?  Maybe another night.  Spaghetti and...?  Nope...not in the mood to make sauce.  Our old standby with soy sauce and lime (recipe will be forthcoming)? Nah...I needed something different.

Have you ever had one of those moments where, blinded by hunger, nothing sounds good?  I know it barely makes sense but it's precisely how I ended up staring into our pantry, bemused and befuddled by the litany of spices looking back at me and desperately seeking inspiration.  Nearly an hour later, after sorting through and reorganizing said spices I emerged with a brand new bottle of smoked paprika, some ancho chile powder and an idea for a smoky southwest inspired meatball.  So I was off to Fairway for some fresh produce and to spend an exorbitant amount of time perusing the cheese case.

The last time I got pulled into the vortex of a fresh cheese case, I discovered baked ricotta with chocolate chips.  I'm finding it hard to put into words just how delightful this cheese is, not because there isn't enough to say about it, but because words simply can't do it justice.  The texture is velvety and smooth like traditional ricotta, only firmer, yet not quite as firm as ricotta salata.  Slightly sweet, it dances over your tongue as it warms in your mouth and the chocolate chips begin to melt, perfuming the cheese with an almost tart butteriness. It's almost as if someone solidified the filling to the most perfect cannoli - I'm sorry, cannoli shells, but your crunchy services are no longer needed.  Anyway, where was I?  Oh yes, on my way to Fairway, my intentions to gather a few quick items for my meatball experiment and then get lost in cheese (not too difficult for me, as I'm sure you've gathered).  What happened when I got there gave me pause.

Prosciutto Wrapped Asparagus

I told you all about my Valentine's dinner for Doug and the mayhem that ensued, but never mentioned what he did for me. Actual Valentine's Day started off with a kidnapping of sorts.  The instructions were simple:  pack a bathing suit, wear sneakers.  That's all I knew.  We hopped in the car and headed east towards Manhattan.  I had recently mentioned the free public pool at the Grace Hotel to Doug and we'd both expressed an interest in visiting sometime, so I was convinced that's where we were headed.  No need for a tropical weekend getaway, an indoor pool with a swim-up bar right in the heart of the city could be just as much fun!

When we crossed over the George Washington Bridge and continued onto I95 North, past Manhattan, I was confused.  When we crossed the Whitestone Bridge I was utterly dumbfounded.  I knew we had to make it back home, shower and change with enough time to make an 8pm dinner reservation (at an undisclosed destination); surely, we couldn't be going much further.  I was right, because shortly thereafter we exited the expressway and turned into a residential neighborhood in Queens.  At this point, I was positively bewildered!  We pulled up to what appeared to be a large hotel, complete with valet parking.  The facade read: Spa Castle.   A modern day castle (of sorts) resplendent with a multitude of spa offerings...ingenious!  I'd never heard of such a place and so my bewilderment continued during check in when we got our "watches" that ended up being waterproof locker keys (brilliant!), through the locker rooms when I changed into my Spa Castle uniform for the day (orange shorts and a pink t-shirt? Stacy London would not approve!) and up the huge spiral staircase that delivered me into a cafeteria where I met up with Doug (after we were relegated to his and hers locker rooms upon entry).

We spent our afternoon sweating in the saunas, cooling off with a cocktail (or 2) and lounging in the heated rooftop pools overlooking the city.  It was wonderful and a great way to spend a romantic, relaxing afternoon together.  Upon leaving Spa Castle, we realized that our departure was ill-timed (can you blame us for being hesitant to leave?!) and we were faced with NY traffic at rush hour.  There was no way we were making it home to NJ to shower and change and then heading back "in this general direction" (the only clue I got about our dinner whereabouts) by 8pm.  So Doug called the restaurant and asked if they could accommodate us earlier.  They happily obliged and we went straight to dinner.  He took me to a fantastic little Italian place on Arthur Avenue.   For starters, we split a couple appetizers, one of which was called Asparagus Fiorucci.  It was delicious and I immediately knew I needed to attempt to recreate it at home sometime.  Below is my interpretation of this lovely dish.   The slight crunch of the earthy asparagus blends so perfectly with the creamy cheese, the floral citrus flavor of the lemon zest and the salty prosciutto; it truly is a simple yet elegant appetizer.

Crock Pot Lasagna Florentine

                  Anyone who knows me will tell you that I am a cheeseball, on so many levels, but probably most notably for my love of cheese.  I, seriously, have never met a cheese I didn't like.  Mild, sharp, creamy, crumbly, moldy, stinky...to me, they are all manifestations of love. So, one of the hardest things to swallow when faced with the oven-less kitchen was the lack of ooey gooey cheesy baked goodness in my life.  No baked macaroni and cheese?  No stuffed shells?  No manicotti?  No lasagna?  You might as well throw the burlap sack over my head and march me to the gallows!  Surely a life without lasagna is a life not worth living, and I do believe Garfield would agree!

It became imperative that I find a way around this lasagna quandary...and fast! Initially I thought the toaster oven might be my savior, but as I mentioned before, it's teeny tiny. So, unless I wanted to make a lasagna amuse-bouche (calorically prudent, but really who eats 2 bites of lasagna?) it was practically useless.  Surveying the rest of my kitchen arsenal didn't yield a promising contender so I was left with the old stand by crock pot...not just for pot roast anymore (though stay tuned because I'll be posting my recipe for the pot roast that saved Christmas Eve soon).  

I have to say, I went into this lasagna endeavor a little gun shy and skeptical, fully expecting a lasagna soup kind of outcome.  Imagine my surprise when after a few hours, I removed the crock pot lid to reveal a perfectly cooked lasagna!  Now, if you're one of those people who live for the crispy, crunchy edges that only an oven can produce, sorry Charlie, you're outta luck.  But, if you're in it for the right reasons (the cheesy deliciousness!) this recipe will not disappoint! One note: once it's finished cooking, turn off the crock pot and allow the lasagna to sit for a good 20-30 min or so.  I made the mistake of diving in too soon; partly out of hunger and partly because I'm a gluttonous cheese-lover and it's next to impossible for me to let a lasagna "rest",  so while I still didn't end up with soup, it was definitely too hot for the pieces to hold their shape and what resulted was a slidey, gooey, fantastic mess on my plate (hence, no plated pictures). So trust me....let it sit!