Baked garlic fries

These fries are addictive. (You wouldn't think they were good for you, too.) I made a first batch of them last week as a side dish and then Bill spontaneously whipped them up for breakfast today, unable to wait until dinner.

3 medium potatoes, peeled and sliced into 1/3" by 1/3" sticks
1 tablespoon oil
1/2 cup chopped fresh parsley
2 garlic cloves, minced
Coarse salt, pepper to taste

Preheat to 425°F. Pat potato strips dry with paper towels. Combine potatoes and oil in large bowl; tossing to coat well. Divide potatoes between 2 large baking sheets lined with parchment paper. Bake until potatoes are deep golden brown, turning and rearranging potatoes every fifteen minutes, for about 40 - 45 minutes total.
Transfer potatoes to bowl. Toss with parsley, garlic and coarse salt.

Serves 2-3.

Thai Shrimp Curry

This is my take on a classic Thai yellow curry. So quick, so satisfying, sooooo fiery hot. This dish was half inspired by the curry soup at Mee Noodle in midtown. But this is much, much better.

1/2 cup basmati rice
1 cup chicken stock
1 teaspoon olive oil
salt to taste

1 small (4 oz) can yellow curry paste
1 can coconut milk
2 cups chicken stock
1 large potato, peeled and sliced into 1/8 inch slices
1 carrot, peeled and sliced into 1/4 inch rounds
3/4 cup frozen baby peas
12 shrimp, shelled and deveined
4 cloves garlic, sliced thin
1/2 can baby corn, each corn sliced into 3 pieces
2 scallions, sliced into thin rings
large handful fresh cilantro and fresh basil, coarsely chopped
2 lemon wedges

Cook the rice in the chicken stock, oil and salt. While the rice is cooking, stir the curry paste, coconut milk and chicken stock together in a medium saucepan. Bring to a boil and add the potatoes and carrots. Let the liquid come back up to a boil and then reduce to a simmer. Cook, stirring frequently, for about 10 - 12 minutes, or until the potatoes are not quite cooked through. Add the peas, stir and let come back up to a low boil. Add the shrimp, garlic, baby corn and scallions and cook for an additional 3 - 5 minutes. Stir in the chopped herbs at the last minute. Serve over rice with a generous squeeze of lemon. Serves two.

Outer Cape Blueberry Cobbler

We're on vacation with my family in Cape Cod for a week, renting a house in Wellfleet. Bill and I spent an hour gathering tiny wild blueberries along the bike trails by the Marconi Station. They baked up beautifully into this intensely delicious cobbler. P-Town artist Joan Cobb Marsh gave me this recipe a few years ago (she makes her cobbler with peaches) and I've made it regularly ever since. It works with any kind of fruit as long as you use about 4 cups of it. Guests fight over the leftovers. I even made it with frozen peaches once, and it was still outstanding. The science behind the dish seems counterintuitive at first: i.e., you would think that heaping the fruit on top of the batter would result in a big pile of mush, but the batter rises as the fruit falls, and 50 minutes after you stick it in the oven, the layers have all sorted themselves out, ending up with a delicate top crust and pillowy middle with a cohesive pie-like filling in between.

1 cup sugar
1 cup all-purpose flour
2 tsp baking powder
1 cup milk
1/2 cup butter: melted
4 cups fresh blueberries, or frozen blueberries, thawed but not drained, tossed with 2 T sugar. (If the berries are fresh, wash and pick over them well before using.)
Stir together sugar, flour and baking powder; add milk and butter and mix with a wire whisk or beater until well blended. Pour batter evenly into a greased 2 quart square baking dish. (You can also use a rectangular disposable pan as we did in the photo. The cobbler will be flatter and thinner, but just as good.) Add berries and their juice on top of the batter, distributing them evenly but keeping an outer edge of batter all the way around. Bake in a 350 degree oven for 50 to 60 minutes or until a toothpick comes out clean. Let cool a little bit before serving -- at least 20 minutes. Serve warm with vanilla ice cream. Serves 8 - 10.

Shrimp Salamanca

I brought several kinds of the Spanish smoked paprika called pimentón home with me from a trip to Salamanca. http://es.wikipedia.org/wiki/Piment%C3%B3n
The pimentón adds incredible smoky depth of flavor to this dish, which would just be a straightforwardly lemony, briny shrimp piccata without it. Bill licked his fingers and groaned as he ate this, so it seems worth preserving.

Spice mixture:
Cornstarch
Spanish smoked paprika (mild or spicy)
Garlic powder
Salt
Pepper

1 pound U-16 shrimp, shelled and deveined
Olive oil
4 cloves garlic, sliced thin
1/2 cup lemon juice (about 1 1/2 lemons)
about 1 cup dry white wine
1/4 cup capers
1 T chopped lemon zest
1/3 cup chopped parsley
1 T unsalted butter
3 cups cooked brown rice

Make a spice mixture out of the cornstarch, paprika, garlic powder, salt and pepper. Taste it and adjust for seasoning. It should be salty and full of flavor. There should be about 3/4 cup of it altogether.
Pat the shrimp dry and coat them liberally with the spice mixture. Heat a small amount of olive oil in a nonstick pan over medium high heat. Brown the shrimp on one side, about 2 minutes, adding the sliced garlic 1 minute into the cooking time, and taking care that the garlic doesn't burn. Turn the shrimp over and add the capers, lemon juice and white wine. Bring to a boil and scrape up any browned bits on the bottom of the pan. Let cook until the shrimp are cooked through. Stir in the parsley and lemon zest. Adjust for seasoning. Add a little sugar if the sauce is too sour. Off the heat, swirl in the butter. Serve hot over rice, topping each serving with a final dusting of smoked paprika. Serves two.

Penne with Broccoli and Sausage

The test of blogworthiness in a dish: we couldn't stop eating it. This is a lighter version of a dish they used to make at Carmine's restaurant in New York when I worked there in the mid-90s.

1 very small head broccoli, chopped into small pieces (about 1 1/2 cups)
3 cloves fresh garlic, sliced thin
1/4 cup good olive oil
2 chicken or turkey sausages, sliced thickly on the bias (I used sun dried tomato chicken sausages this time)
1/2 cup canned chicken broth
Generous pinch of red pepper flakes
Kosher salt, to taste
Freshly grated parmesan cheese
Chopped Italian parsley
Handful of roasted garlic cloves
1/2 box of penne or ziti

Set a pot of salted water to boil in a pot big enough to fit the pasta. Cook the pasta and broccoli. There are two ways to do this. Either set a bamboo steamer filled with broccoli over the pot in which the pasta is cooking (my preferred method) or add the broccoli in with the pasta when the pasta is about 4 minutes from being done. Either way, the broccoli should be cooked through but still firm enough that it won't turn to mush in the pan, and the pasta should be al dente.

While the pasta is cooking, brown the turkey sausage in a large saute pan over high heat, and when it is brown add the sliced garlic and cook just until the garlic is golden. Add red pepper flakes and salt, and de-glaze the pan with the chicken stock.

Once the pasta is cooked, combine all ingredients in the saute pan, adding parsley, roasted garlic cloves and a blizzard of good grated cheese. Taste for seasoning. I sometimes add in a little of the pasta cooking liquid if it isn't brothy enough.
Bill went back for thirds, and there was a Hieronymus-sized portion left over anyway.

The most expensive steak in the history of relationships

Filet Mignon au Poivre
New calphalon pan
Smoke-filled kitchen
Hastily opened window
Disappearing air conditioner
Horrible crash in the alley

Blueberry Pancakes

Since Bill has very sweetly asked me to make these pancakes for breakfast twice this week, and has devoured each batch with loud and emphatic declarations of his good fortune, this seems like a fabulous way to kick off the chronicle of our upcoming marriage and the merging/emerging of our families and our lives in recipes.

To keep the historical record accurate, I will confess that (years of experience as a professional cook in fancy restaurants notwithstanding) I did set off a minor explosion in the kitchen while whipping up the first batch of these pancakes, involving turning the flame up under the wrong burner on Bill's still-new-to-me-stove, and inadvertently heating a glass mixing bowl to the point of combustion, sending shards of glass hurtling in all directions at high speeds. Bill was entirely good-natured about it, probably because it was almost a non-event compared to what happened a few weeks ago when I dropped his air conditioner out the window while cooking The Most Expensive Steak in the History of Relationships...
But more on that another time.

Traditionally, these would be buttermilk blueberry pancakes, but we didn't have any buttermilk and didn't feel like foraging for it, so here's what I came up with:

Dry Ingredients
1 cup all-purpose flour
1/3 cup sugar
1 heaping teaspoons baking powder
1/4 teaspoon baking soda
pinch of salt
1 tablespoon ground flax seed

Wet Ingredients
1 egg plus 1 egg white
2 heaping tablespoons of thick yogurt stirred into skim milk to equal one cup of liquid or a tiny bit more
1/8 cup melted unsalted butter, plus some for frying
dash of vanilla extract

3/4 cup blueberries

Combine dry ingredients in a large bowl.
Stir the wet ingredients (except for the berries) together in a separate bowl or large measuring cup. Combine the dry and the wet ingredients and stir into a lumpy batter. Don't overmix.

Heat a small amount of butter in a skillet over medium heat. Ladle 1/4 cup of batter onto the skillet and dot with some of the blueberries, keeping the berries towards the center of the pancake so they are easy to flip. Cook for a minute or two minute on each side.They should be well-browned. the batter is thick, so it takes some care to be sure that they're cooked through.

Serve hot with maple syrup.
This recipe served two perfectly the other day when we were really hungry. It could have served us AND Hieronymus today. It just depends. Bill recommended that they be referred to forthwith as "The Blueberry Pancakes of Rightousness."