What I Did for Love

 What’s cooking? Lemony White Bean Soup with Turkey and Greens

■ In the early days of lockdown, my friend Gail – along with so many other bakers and even non-bakers – decided that what she’d do to occupy herself was to bake bread, for family and friends alike. But she needed flour. There was none to be had at the local grocery store, and she has a pre-existing condition that limited her ability to shop around. Well, if she needed flour, then the love of her life would by God get her some. From Costco. He called her from the store with just one question: “You want the 25-pound bag or the 50-pound bag?”

This is a quarter of our delivery.

■ At my own house a year ago, we were relatively unprepared for the impact of the stay-at-home orders, especially on our supply of popcorn, which had recently become my snack du jour. So my prince took it upon himself to order some from amazon. A couple of days later, a large carton showed up on our porch, holding a dozen boxes of microwaveable popcorn, each box holding 12 individual packages. “I didn’t mean to order so much,” he said. So we contemplated where to store it all and how long it might take us to consume 144 bags of popcorn. The next day, I noticed another large carton from amazon at our door. What now? I thought. Why, it was another 12 boxes of popcorn. “I was so excited, I must have clicked twice on the ‘Buy Now’ button,” he said.

■ When the power went out at my friend Joy’s apartment during the Texas Winter Wipeout, one of the concerns she and her hubby faced was the inability to grind beans for their ritual daily coffee. In a quintessentially masculine approach, her darling husband realized he didn’t need no stinking grinder – a dishtowel and ...a pizza roller? Too hard to control. How about a crab mallet? Yes, a crab mallet would do the trick. And it did. Sort of. The coffee was a little weaker than they were used to, but any port in a storm, as they say. The more memorable effect was the tiny bits of coffee “dust” that covered the floor and counters of the kitchen. Joy said it added a “Turkish coffee bar” ambience to the experience.

But for the fact that we are still working through our supply of microwave popcorn, I’m going to miss some of these quirks of behavior that this past year has engendered. Those gestures that say, “I love you so much I’m going to smash coffee beans on your kitchen counter so you can have your cup of Joe” or “I’ll haul 25 pounds of flour home for you” – those are the gifts that mean much more than a bunch of flowers or a piece of jewelry.

The overnight shift in the ICU.

For my own part, I’ve been making cookies: since last March, I calculate 71 dozen. Most for my grandchildren, but many for my son and the ICU nurses he works with, quite a few for friends, even some for a group of women golfers. We all have our ways to say “I care.”

Along with the rest of you, I’m still cooking more than I used to. But the Kitchen Goddess has actually enjoyed having the time to peruse her many sources of recipes, and not a few of the results have been fun and delicious. What I’ve lacked for is stories – really, how much interesting has been happening in your life? – which is why so few of those recipes have made it into blog posts. It has only recently occurred to me that maybe I don’t have to have a long story, so I’m going to see what I can do to streamline the delivery of some really excellent dishes to you.

The first is today’s Lemony White Bean Soup with Turkey and Greens, from Melissa Clark of The New York Times. Imagine this: we’ve passed the vernal equinox, so spring is nominally here. But it’s still frosty and gray in the early morning. You wake up warm and cozy under your comforter, and as you’re considering the day, the sun makes a sudden appearance and within minutes, the birds are chirping outside your window. That’s this soup. What might otherwise be your basic combo of “beans + meat” is brought smartly into the season by a splash of lemon and a bunch of fresh herbs stirred in at the end.

Ms. Clark maintains that the time it takes to make this dish is 45 minutes. Phooey. This is a subject on which the Kitchen Goddess gets..., well, irate. In the world of food journalists and professional recipe developers, it is common to offer “cooking time” estimates that ignore the time it takes to gather the ingredients, dice the onion and the carrot, mince the garlic, grate the ginger, rinse the beans, chop the herbs, and squeeze the lemon juice.

How do those people expect the work gets done? In their own home kitchens, do they arrive to find the ingredients magically pulled from the pantry or fridge and nicely arranged with knives and cutting boards already out? Do they have husbands/lovers/children/other friends or relatives who routinely sprint to the kitchen to offer assistance? In my house, I have a loving mate who, while not actually eager to help, is willing and attentive to the fact that dinner will appear sooner if he pitches in; but then I have to add back the time it takes to explain his part in the production and what/where the tools are for executing said part. And the Kitchen Goddess admittedly gets occasionally distracted and a bit over focused on tasks like ribboning the greens. (That’s just the way she likes them, so she deals with it.) But the idea that anyone could walk into the kitchen and 45 minutes later have this delectable dish is, well, stupid.

Ok, the KG is going to take a breath now. What Ms. Clark means is that, once you have gathered your tools and ingredients and done the chopping and squeezing and mincing and grating... THEN it takes 45 minutes. So I routinely add another hour. But this dish is so worth it.

Lemony White Bean Soup With Turkey and Greens

Adapted from Melissa Clark in The New York Times

Serves 4.

Mise en place, y’all. And only 45 minutes from here.

Ingredients
3 tablespoons olive oil
1 large onion, diced
1 large carrot, diced
1 large bunch hearty greens (collard greens, kale, broccoli rabe, mustard greens)
1 tablespoon tomato paste
¾ teaspoon ground cumin, plus some at end to taste
½ teaspoon Aleppo pepper (can substitute ⅛ teaspoon chili pepper flakes)
½ pound ground turkey
3 garlic cloves, minced
1 tablespoon finely grated fresh ginger
1 teaspoon kosher salt, plus more at end to taste
1 quart chicken stock
2 cans white beans, drained and rinsed (15-ounce cans or 19-ounce cans, makes no difference)
1 cup chopped fresh, soft herbs (parsley, mint, cilantro, dill, basil, tarragon, chives or a combination – I used parsley, mint, dill, and cilantro)
Juice of a whole lemon (regular or Meyer lemon)

Directions

Rinse the greens and pull the leaves off the stems. Tear or chop (or ribbon, as the Kitchen Goddess prefers) the leaves into bite-size pieces and reserve. (Can't help myself. See? It doesn’t look hard, does it?)

In a large soup pot over medium-high heat, let the oil warm for about a minute, then add the onion and carrot, and sauté for 7-10 minutes, until the onion is soft and golden, maybe even a little brown at the edges.

Stir the tomato paste, the cumin, and the Aleppo pepper (or red-pepper flakes, if that’s what you are using) into the pot, and continue stirring about a minute, when the paste will darken.

Add the turkey, garlic, ginger and 1 teaspoon salt, and sauté, stirring often and breaking up the meat with your spoon, for 5-6 minutes, until the turkey is browned in spots.

Add stock and the beans, and bring the soup to a simmer. Continue to simmer for 15-20 minutes, until the soup is thick and flavorful, adding more salt to taste. Kitchen Goddess note: At this point, you can decide how thick you want the soup to be. The KG prefers a thicker soup, so she gets her potato masher out and smashes about a third of the beans, to release their starch. You can also just use a spoon to smash some against the side of the pot. Or you can leave the beans whole for a brothier soup. It will taste great either way.

Add the greens to the pot and simmer until they are soft, or at least no longer al dente. That will take 5-10 minutes for most greens; collards are thicker and could take as long as 15 minutes. (If the broth seems like it is thickening too much, you can add a little water.)

Remove the soup from the heat and stir the herbs and lemon juice into the pot until the herbs get well incorporated. Taste the soup and add more salt, cumin and lemon juice until the broth is lively and bright-tasting. (The Kitchen Goddess adds ½ teaspoon of kosher salt and another rounded ¼ teaspoon of cumin.) Serve topped with a thin drizzle of olive oil and a sprinkling of Aleppo pepper (or red-pepper flakes), if desired.

The soup will be hot enough to wilt the herbs, so just stir it for a few minutes before tasting.

Enjoy the season!

All This in One Pan? It’s a Holiday Miracle! What’s cooking? Sheet-Pan Skirt Steak in a Balsamic Marinade with Broccoli and White Beans

Kitchen Goddess note: I know, I promised you some ideas for hors d’oeuvres to help your holiday hosting. But then I came across this dish and got so excited I had to move it to the front of the line. No worries, though – as I always tell my guests, the hors d’oeuvres will be ready soon...

The holidays are sort of a feast/famine roller coaster at our house. There’s that slow climb through testing four veggie recipes for this blog, climaxing with the Thanksgiving bonanza, followed by no dinner at all until a delicious turkey soup emerges from the leftovers. Then a steady slide downhill after all that cooking, when I can’t get energized about even turning on the stove. That’s when we have a week of takeout.

I’m finally rested from Turkey Day, so I decided to treat my hubby to a steak dinner. And about that time, I was perusing my pantry and noticed it included six bottles of balsamic vinegar. That’s right, six. Three of regular balsamic, two of fig balsamic, and a blueberry balsamic. Am not sure how I got to that point – probably the same way that I might end up with 30+ rolls of toilet paper: I’d notice one day that we’re low, and the thought is like an earworm – you know, one of those bits of music that play over and over in your head until you want to shoot yourself? Only in this version, every time I’d go to the store, I’d “remember” we need toilet paper. So I must have been through a period of “remembering” balsamic vinegar.

In any case, when I happened upon this recipe that used a half cup of the stuff, I had to try it. What a discovery. And at the rate I expect to repeat this meal, I’ll be needing more balsamic in no time.

How many ways do I love this dish?

1. The whole meal cooks in one pan. Get that? The whole meal. One pan. (Okay, you’ll also want a big bowl for tossing the broccoli, but let’s not quibble over numbers.)

2. The process – which included trimming and slicing the broccoli – took less than an hour from start to finish.

3. The deliciousness factor is way high because the meat juices drip down to flavor the beans and broccoli as they cook. Mmmm... And the marinade also works as a sauce for the cooked steak and the veggies. For maximum flavor, do yourself a favor – a flavor favor! – and get fresh oregano.

4. The concept is terrifically flexible: the meat can be hanger steak or skirt steak or flank steak, the veggies can be broccoli or broccolini or (according to reviews) Brussels sprouts or asparagus. And the beans can be any canned white beans: Great Northern, navy, cannellini. (Just FYI, the Kitchen Goddess’s faves are the cannellini, but all the store had this time was navy beans.)

My hanger steak, about 1.35 pounds

Kitchen Goddess note on meat: Of the three beef cuts used for this type of cooking, skirt steak and hanger steak come from the diaphragm. Both are prized for their flavor; of the two, hanger is thicker and more tender, so supposedly needs marinating for less time. That said, my butcher had only hanger available, and it was still a bit tough after marinating only 30 minutes. Next time, I’ll marinate a full hour. Actually, next time I’ll get skirt steak. Flank steak is leaner and not quite as flavorful, but responds well to marinating. All three – hanger, skirt, and flank meat – should be cooked quickly and at high heat. They’re best served rare or medium-rare, and should be cut in thin strips across the grain to improve tenderness.

Sheet-Pan Skirt Steak in a Balsamic Marinade with Broccoli and White Beans

Adapted from Rhoda Boone in epicurious.com, August 2015

Serves 4.

Ingredients
4 large garlic cloves, divided
½ cup balsamic vinegar
3 tablespoons Dijon mustard
2 tablespoons chopped fresh (!) oregano leaves, divided
1½ teaspoons kosher salt, divided
¾ teaspoon freshly ground black pepper, divided
½ cup plus 2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil, divided
1½ pounds skirt steak (or hanger steak or flank steak – see note above; if you use skirt steak, which is long and thin, cut it into two short pieces, for ease of broiling)
1 pound broccoli or broccolini
1 can (15-ounce) white beans, drained and rinsed

Special equipment: An ovenproof wire rack that fits inside an 18x13-inch rimmed baking sheet

Directions
Finely chop 2 of the garlic cloves. Put the garlic into a large jar or medium bowl and add the vinegar, mustard, 1 tablespoon of the oregano, 1 teaspoon of the salt, and ½ teaspoon of the pepper, whisking to combine well. Slowly drizzle in ½ cup of the oil, whisking constantly to emulsify the mixture. Set aside ¼ cup of the vinaigrette for serving.

Place the steak into a half-gallon zip-lock bag and pour in the remaining vinaigrette. Seal the bag and massage to coat the meat with the vinaigrette. (Alternatively, you can place the meat in a shallow glass dish and pour the marinade over it. But that would mean dirtying another dish, wouldn’t it?) Let the meat marinate at least 30 minutes or up to 1 hour.






While the meat is marinating, use a vegetable peeler to remove the tough outer layer of the broccoli stems, and slice the broccoli lengthwise in pieces about ¼ inch thick. (If you have broccolini instead, slice only the thickest of the stems.)

Preheat the broiler and thinly slice the remaining 2 garlic cloves. In a large bowl, toss the broccolini with the remaining 2 tablespoons of oil, 1 tablespoon of oregano, ½ teaspoon of salt, and ¼ teaspoon of pepper. Lay the broccoli out on a rimmed baking sheet, and broil it about 4 inches from the heat for 5 minutes, then remove the pan from the oven.

Stir the beans into the broccoli and scatter the sliced garlic on top. Set the wire rack on top of the beans and broccoli. Remove the steak from the marinade and allow excess to drip off. Place the steak on the rack and discard the marinade.

Broil the steak about 3 minutes per side for medium-rare. (If you use hanger or skirt steak, which are thicker, let them cook an extra minute per side.) Remove the pan from the oven and let the steak rest 5 minutes before slicing.

Meanwhile, divide the broccoli-bean mixture among four plates. Thinly slice the steak against the grain and serve with the reserved vinaigrette alongside. (Caution: The balsamic vinaigrette has a fairly strong flavor that can overwhelm the broccoli/beans, which have already been flavored by the meat drippings. So taste first before you pour on more sauce.)

Note that if you are more organized than the Kitchen Goddess, you can make the vinaigrette up to 3 days ahead.