November 2, 2011
As you may have already gathered from its rather humdrum, self-explanatory title, this post is not about sexy food. It is not about the kind of food that you ooh and ahh over; the kind of food that you present with garnish and flourish. This is not the kind of food you rave about to your friends and take home to meet the parents.
No, my friend: “collards in both” is just what it sounds like. It won’t surprise you, leap out and bite you, or take you for a wild ride. It’s plain-old comfy food: light, simple, and nourishing; soothing to the stomach and the soul.
(If you’re in the mood for some sexy collards, though, definitely try this. I sure am, the next batch of collards I get my hands on!)
So I’ve been feeling a little sad lately. Either as a result of this, or simply because misery loves company, my stomach has been equally unhappy; moody and fussy like an over-tired two-year-old who simply refuses to keep down his vegetables. Toast and tea and clear soup are just about all I can stomach these days… literally… also just about all I can afford.
That said, I also hate waste… and felt compelled to adopt a large bunch of lonely collard greens that remained at the end of a long chilly afternoon outside at the farmstand.
Take a glum girl, chilled to the bones, with a big bunch of collards in hand and a craving for chicken soup and voila: collards in broth.
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October 4, 2011
A gorgeous rainbow of baby heirloom tomatoes.
We over at the Urban Farm are rolling in them. Drowning in them, just about. No, really. I don’t think you fully understand me. I am telling you we are dealing with an onslaught, a true onslaught of tiny tomatoes, marching so steadily and relentlessly towards ripeness that it is difficult to keep pace with them. It is a problem.
It is, in fact, my very favorite problem of the month.
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September 12, 2011
I finally bought Tahini.
For years I have been meaning to buy Tahini, and for years it has somehow managed to elude… well, I was going to say “shopping lists”, but what I should say is “my ability to give a sh*t”. Because ironically enough, despite the fact that I am a committed list-maker and love making all sorts of lists, I never really make shopping lists. Maybe this is because I so rarely cook from a recipe, having somehow managed to maintain a mysterious confidence in my ability to successfully substitute or simply do without certain key ingredients… despite a good deal of evidence to the contrary.
(I don’t write about those.)
On those rare occasions when I spontaneously decide to turn over a new leaf, become an organized shopper, and organize my grocery needs into lists — and actually remember to take them out of my pocket once I get to the store, instead of four days later — I tend to treat them more as “suggested guidelines” than anything else. Usually it’s the harder-to-find, more specialized, less generally-useful or immediately-necessary items — like green curry paste, brown rice vinegar, fish sauce, or (yep) tahini — that get forgotten about, ignored, or put off until the next shopping trip.
Basically what I’m telling you is that I’ve managed to make this particular procrastination stretch on for years. YEARS.
Part of me almost feels as though I should be proud of myself.
But I digress. The day has finally come: Tahini is officially the newest member of my kitchen. And as all kitchen-members must pull their weight around here, Tahini (whom I have decided to spontaneously personify and capitalize) was immediately put to work. Together, Tahini and I made this:
Behold: White Bean Babaganoush. Just the first of many things on my long list of adventures for Tahini and I.
(See? Lists. I *do* make them… I swear.)
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August 2, 2010
This weekend I spent another lovely afternoon in New Haven, with my brother, not eating eggs.
If you’re wondering why I announced what we were not eating (ie, eggs) instead of what we did (those nifty cucumber and white bean salads up there), it’s because we were supposed to be having eggs: backyard-fresh, straight-from-the-hen eggs. Because my brother has been chickensitting for his neighbors, and was sure he would have accumulated such a massive collection of eggs that last week he commissioned me to start thinking about new and interesting ways to use them all.
Truth be told, the real reason I went to New Haven was not to visit my brother, but to visit the chickens.
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