Drinking the Blues Away

 What’s cooking? Blue Butterfly Pea Tea, Blue Lemonade, Blue Margaritas

Is this not the coolest looking drink you've ever seen? Stay with me... 

My grandson, James has a favorite color: blue. Blue shoes. Blue shirts. We’ve made snickerdoodles together – he wanted his blue. I’ve made dinosaur cookies for him more than once; they, too, have to be blue. And it turns out, this predisposition puts him in the forefront of fashion this year.

Are you aware that there’s a color of the year? True, true. It sounds almost ridiculous, but we all know that certain colors rise and fall in the world of fashion and decor. Remember when avocado green was all the rage? But that was before Pantone – the color company – decided to exert some control over our collective imagination.

Every year, Pantone’s color experts choose and promote a Color of the Year (COTY). Combining trend analysis and new color influences, they consider various cultural and social icons, take the temperature of the collective psyche, then look deeply into their crystal balls, and issue a proclamation. This year, the COTY is Classic Blue.

Amazingly enough, the color you see here on your screen might not even be the true Classic Blue. Why? Because color is one of the great and conspicuous weaknesses in display technology. In fact (according The New Yorker magazine, which never lies), the range of colors available on the latest digital devices is more restricted than on color television screens from the 1960s.

Pantone’s poobahs say that Classic Blue is “a timeless and enduring blue hue, elegant in its simplicity. Suggestive of the sky at dusk, the reassuring qualities of Classic Blue offer the promise of protection. Classic Blue brings a sense of peace and tranquility to the human spirit, instilling calm and confidence and offering refuge.” Golly, I feel better already.

So as a foodie, what can one do with the Classic Blue? Not too many blue foods, although blueberries are very close to Pantone 19-4052, and a lot easier to remember. I once made the mistake of tossing some purple new potatoes into a fish chowder, and it turned the fish a nearly electric shade of blue. For a while, I thought some strange bacteria had infected the fish until I realized it was the potatoes; but at that point, I couldn’t really bring myself to eat the chowder and I threw it out. It just looked too weird.

But the Kitchen Goddess has made a discovery. Among the strange food-related items I’ve purchased since the lockdown began is a bag of Butterfly Pea Flower Tea. I know, it’s a mouthful. But other than blueberries, it’s one of the few true blue foods that exist in nature.

The tea flavor has that light earthiness of a green tea. Made from the flowers of the Clitoria ternatea plant, it isn’t technically a “tea,” but a tisane – a caffeine-free herbal beverage. It’s been around for centuries, originating in Southeast Asia, where its color-changing properties make it popular also in desserts and cocktails. Yes, you heard me right: color-changing. Are you intrigued? Read on...

So... is it also healthy? So glad you asked. Butterfly pea flower tea (also referred to as “pigeon-wing” tea) is chock-full of the antioxidant proanthocyanidin, which promotes collagen growth and skin cell elasticity and helps prevent chronic diseases, and acetylcholine, which promotes brain function and memory. These two factors alone should be enough to get us all mainlining the stuff.

The tea, on the other hand, is not just healthy – it’s really, really fun. It starts out deep blue, but if you add lemon or a bit of other citrus juice, the blue changes to purple. Now, isn’t that fun? The color goes from blue to purple when the pH level changes, in much the same way that a gardener can encourage hydrangeas to bloom blue by adding an acidic organic mulch. But this change happens before your eyes. Like magic!

I found my Blue Butterfly Pea Tea at amazon.com (where else?), but you can also get some from the very excellent tea company, Tea Forté, or at many of the other tea stores online. I bought the dried flowers and the powder version, but have not yet played with the latter.

Brewing Guide

■ For hot tea, use 1½ teaspoons of loose butterfly pea flower tea to 8 ounces of water heated to 205-210 degrees. Steep 3-4 minutes.

■ For cold brewing, use the same ratio of tea to cold water and steep 12 hours.

Butterfly pea flower tea isn’t as tricky to make as black or green tea in that it doesn’t get bitter if you brew it for too long. As I mentioned, it doesn’t have a strong distinctive taste on its own; the KG always adds lemon and/or honey, but you can make a blue tea latte by adding milk and sugar. And now, the Kitchen Goddess presents you with two other perfectly delightful ways to enjoy it.

Kitchen Goddess note: The recipes here are ones I found on other blogs as I rattled around the web. The originators are both food bloggers, and their blogs, which you can reach through the links posted in the attributions, are both well worth a visit – good writing, beautiful photos, and inspiring recipes.

This photo is of Stage 2 -- after the citrus addition but before stirring.

But it's also the prettiest.

Blue Butterfly Pea Lemonade

Adapted from the blog, Love & Olive Oil, by Lindsay Landis 

Makes about 48 ounces or 8 servings.

Ingredients

5 cups filtered water, divided
1 cup granulated sugar, or to taste
½ cup (¼ ounce) dried butterfly pea flowers
1 cup freshly squeezed lemon juice (should take 8-10 lemons)

Directions
In a small saucepan over low heat, stir the sugar into 3 cups of the filtered water just until the sugar completely dissolves. Add the butterfly pea flowers and stir enough to combine. 

Bring the mixture to a simmer – no more stirring! – then cover the pan and let it steep off the heat for 10 minutes. Using a fine-mesh sieve, strain the mix and discard the flowers. Refrigerate to cool.

In a separate jar or glass measuring cup, combine the lemon juice with the remaining 2 cups of water. Kitchen Goddess note: If you don’t want to make so much at one time, just refrigerate the syrup and add lemon juice and water in a 1:2 ratio (e.g., for a single serving, use 2 tablespoons of lemon juice to ¼ cup of water).

To serve, fill tall glasses with ice. Pour the butterfly pea syrup to about the halfway mark of the glass.

Here you are: Stage 1: Just the syrup over ice

Stage 3: Presto change-o! What was blue is now mauve.

To fully experience the color-changing magic, pour the lemon-water over the ice slowly, and... voila! Where the lemon meets the syrup, the color will slowly change from blue to mauve. Stir to combine the two mixtures until the color has completely turned.

* * *

I started working on this post mid-summer, and it’s almost karmic that today is Dieciséis de Septiembre, which for Mexico is the country’s 4th of July. So as we celebrate their Independence Day with our neighbors to the south, what better way than to mix up a color-changing margarita? It’s not just tasty, it’s a fiesta all to itself.

Blue Magic Margarita
Adapted from Meghan, who writes the blog, Fox-and-Briar

Makes 4 drinks.

Ingredients

For the infused tequila:
1 cup Silver Tequila
8 Butterfly Pea Flowers (dried)

For the margaritas:
4 ounces Butterfly Pea Flower Infused Tequila
2 ounces (¼ cup) lime juice
1½ ounces (3 tablespoons) triple sec or other orange liqueur (I used Paula’s Texas Orange)

1 ounce (2 tablespoons) simple syrup [For simple syrup: In a clean saucepan, stir together equal parts water and sugar. Bring the mixture to a boil, stirring only until the sugar dissolves. Remove it from the heat and store.]

Instructions
First, make Butterfly Pea Infused Tequila. In a jar with a tight fitting lid, combine the tequila and dried butterfly pea flowers. Let the mixture sit overnight or for at least 2-3 hours. Use a fine-mesh strainer to remove the flowers. The tequila will keep for... well, mine has lasted two months without a problem. Which means I’m clearly not making margaritas often enough.

Stage 1: Butterfly-pea-infused tequila alone over ice. 

For the Blue Magic Margarita, first rim your glasses with salt (optional): either (1) dip the rim of a glass in a shallow saucer of water or lemon or lime juice, or (2) moisten the rim using a slice of lemon or lime. Then dip the rim in a saucer of salt.

Fill the glass with ice, and add the butterfly-pea-infused tequila.

Stage 2: See how it changes as you're pouring? Notice that the syrupy ingredients are now

what's being poured, so they end up at the bottom of the glass. For the lemonade, the syrup

was already in the glass, so the citrus stayed on top.

In a separate jar or cocktail shaker, mix the lime juice, triple sec, and simple syrup. (If you like a less sweet drink, just reduce the amount of simple syrup.)  Shake well. Slowly pour the mixture into the tequila, and watch the drink turn from blue to mauve. (As with the lemonade, the fun is in pouring slowly, to better watch the color change. Stir to fully combine before drinking.  Garnish with a thin slice of lime.

And wish any of your Latino friends “¡Feliz día de Independencia!”

The Devil Made Me Do It

What’s cooking? Preserved Lemons and Warm Green Vinaigrette

The Kitchen Goddess got a little carried away in this post, so here’s the short-form:

1. The etymology of “idle hands” – ok, not funny, but interesting.

2. Easy instructions for preserving lemons. Which you’ll want to do after reading #3.

3. A perfectly wonderful and seriously useful recipe for Warm Green Vinaigrette. The KG had it at almost every meal (even on hard-boiled eggs, for breakfast), until she ran out.

Even after four months of this pandemic... experience, I wake up almost every morning with a check of all my faculties, wondering if that tingling feeling means anything. Then I get up, have breakfast, and realize it was probably just the need for food and coffee.

I read the paper – not for any news, because it’s almost all the same stuff these days (politics and Covid case counts), but for the occasional piece on science or the arts or fun things to do with your small children, even though the small children in my family are nearly 1,700 miles away. I send links or actual clippings from that last category of pieces to my daughter-in-law, in hopes of helping her cope, but mostly as just something to do. That would be because I’ll take almost any excuse to keep from having to clean up/organize my office.

The office cleaning/organizing thing is easier to avoid if I just stay in the kitchen. But you know the old saying about idle hands... Would you like to know where that saying comes from? Of course you would.

Way back in the 4th century, St. Jerome wrote, “engage in some occupation, so that the devil may always find you busy.” A thousand years later, Chaucer ran with a similar thought in the “Prologue to the Second Nun’s Tale” from The Canterbury Tales: “An idle man is like a place that has no walls; the devils may enter on every side.”.

Then the Protestants got hold of it. According to my New Jersey minister, Martin Luther (in the 16th century) was the first theologian to suggest that our work in the world was as important as the holiness that the monastery sought to achieve. And The Living Bible in 1971 cemented the concept into its translation, with “Idle hands are the devil’s workshop; idle lips are his mouthpiece.” Leave it to the Protestants...

Okay, enough of that.

So when the Kitchen Goddess finds herself with time on her hands, it’s hard to know where the devil will take her. The latest urge was inspired by a recipe for Warm Green Vinaigrette, which included as an ingredient “preserved lemon.”

In the past, when the KG had a need for preserved lemon, she either found some in jars at Whole Foods, or substituted lemon zest and a bit of lemon juice, which doesn’t quite fit the bill. Preserved lemons deliver a mellower taste than you get with fresh lemon – a mildly tart, yet intense lemony flavor. But the process of making them takes 3-4 weeks. Hmmm... she said to herself, 3-4 weeks... I think I have that kind of time.

It turns out that the actual work of preserving lemons takes maybe a half hour. You hear that? Thirty minutes. The rest of the time, you’re just shaking them up once a day. I remembered doing the preparations once when we lived full-time in New Jersey, then putting the jar on a shelf in my pantry. I discovered it several years later, when we were moving, and while those lemons might have been well preserved, I had no real interest in investigating.

But I know that many of you now also have some extra time. And – to repeat – this project just needs shaking/turning the jar once a day, to encourage the salt to dissolve and distribute itself in the brine. Moreover, once you have some, they’ll keep at least a year – maybe longer, as long as they stay submerged in the brine.

The internet has enough YouTube videos and written recipes for preserving lemons to make your head spin. But I thought this was the simplest and most straightforward. It comes from Julia Moskin in The New York Times, who (in the grand tradition of recipe borrowing) adapted it from Paula Wolfert in Wolfert’s 1973 book, Couscous and Other Good Food from Morocco.

Preserved Lemons

Adapted from Julia Moskin in The New York Times

Ingredients

When I saw how tightly they pack,
I shifted to a smaller jar.

5-6 lemons for preserving [Kitchen Goddess note: Organic is recommended because you’ll be eating the skins. If you can’t find organic, let the lemons sit in some vinegar water for a few minutes, then rinse. KG used Meyer lemons, but regular are fine.]
2-3 more lemons for juice
Kosher salt

Special equipment: one medium-sized jar with a tight-fitting lid – whatever size will fit the number of lemons you want to preserve – sterilized in the dishwasher or in a large pot where it can sit raised off the bottom (use a footed baking rack or steamer), in boiling water for 5 minutes. I used a 17-ounce Mason jar with a clamp lid, which I read works better than the ones with ring-type lids. (Don’t boil the rubber gasket.) In that little 17-ounce jar, I fit 6 Meyer lemons.

Directions
Scrub the lemons clean. Slice the ends off each lemon, then cut into quarters lengthwise from the top to within ½ inch of the bottom, leaving them attached at one end.

Cover the bottom of the jar with 2-3 tablespoons of kosher salt. Lightly pack each lemon with kosher salt, then reshape the fruit and fit the lemons into the jar. Press on the lemons as you fit them into the jar, to release the juice. Break some of the lemons apart if necessary, to fit in as many as you can. As you get one layer set, sprinkle more salt before adding another layer.

Press the lemons down to release their juices. Squeeze the additional lemons into the jar until juice covers everything.

Close the jar and let the lemons ripen at cool room temperature, shaking the jar every day (to dissolve the salt and distribute the brine) for 3-4 weeks, or until the rinds are tender. Then store the jar in the refrigerator.

As you can see in the photo above, the Kitchen Goddess had a handy aid to make sure the lemons were all submerged. It’s called a Pickle Pebble, and you can get a package of 4 for $18.95 at amazon.com. The generic name is fermentation weights, and they’re available at a number of websites or kitchen stores. They’re not mandatory – KG was on amazon.com and saw them, and it was like a little twinkle she could not resist. You can just add more juice.



To use the preserved lemons, remove a piece of lemon and rinse it. (My understanding is that you can add more fresh lemons to the brine as you use them up, but am thinking I’ll just wait until I’ve used the entire jar’s worth.) Recipes usually call for the minced rind to be added at the very end of cooking or used raw; the pulp can be added to a simmering pot.

What would you do with preserved lemons if you had some?
You might make Chicken Tagine, a traditional Moroccan dish that’s both easy and impressive. With a little research, the Kitchen Goddess has unearthed a handful of chicken recipes that she plans to try and pass on to you... soon. Preserved lemons are also good on grilled fish and braised veggies.

Here’s that warm vinaigrette over scallops that were already perfectly delicious, suddenly even more so.

Or try this delightful and flexible, light and bright, tart and savory warm green vinaigrette. (Is that enough helpful adjectives?) The Kitchen Goddess is amazed at how well it transforms the simplest salads, gives a dressy touch to asparagus or green beans, and adds sparkle to a dinner of sautéed scallops over rice. (See above.) And according to the originator of the recipe, any leftover sauce is great spooned over creamy ricotta.

Warm Green Vinaigrette

Adapted from Laurie Ellen Pellicano in Taste Magazine.

Makes 1 cup of dressing.

Ingredients
½ cup plus 3 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
2-3 hefty sprigs of fresh oregano
1 tablespoon roughly chopped capers
5-6 Castelvetrano olives, or other meaty green olives, roughly chopped (enough to make 2 tablespoons)
1 teaspoon Dijon mustard
1 tablespoon minced preserved lemons (about ¼ of one lemon, flesh included)*
3 tablespoons white wine vinegar
½ teaspoon kosher salt
Freshly ground black pepper

*Kitchen Goddess note: Be sure to rinse the lemon wedge in cold water and pat it dry before using it.

Directions
Heat the 3 tablespoons of olive oil and the oregano sprigs together in a small skillet over medium-low heat. As the heat rises, the oil will tend to sputter with the oregano. This is normal. Once the sputtering picks up and the oregano leaves have turned dark and stiff (3-4 minutes), remove the sprigs with small tongs or a fork, and let them drain on paper towels.

Add the chopped capers to the oil and cook for 1-2 minutes, until they appear to be lightly browned. Add the olives, and cook the mixture an additional 1 minute, stirring regularly just to lightly fry the olives. Turn the heat off, but leave the skillet in place on the warm burner.

Stir in the Dijon mustard, preserved lemon, and white wine vinegar, then whisk in the remaining ½ cup olive oil. Finely crumble the fried oregano leaves between your fingers, and add them to the vinaigrette.

Stir well to combine. Add salt and several fresh grinds of black pepper, to taste. If you’re going to be using the vinaigrette immediately, leave it in the skillet or saucepan until you’re ready. Otherwise, scrape it into a jar or other container to be stored in the fridge. Use warm or at room temperature;
if you store it refrigerated, temper it in a microwave or skillet/saucepan over low heat when ready to use.

Happy lemon preserving, everyone!

A Fortune for You, Too

What’s cooking? Fennel Frond Pesto, Asian Peanut Sauce, and Smoked Oyster Caesar Salad

This is my new favorite from a Chinese fortune cookie. It arrived in a takeout delivery last week, and I thought it seemed perfect for sharing.

Some people tell me they think the Kitchen Goddess never serves anything but fabulous meals. Hahaha... They should ask my husband,  – but wait until I’m out of the room. We’ve been married now for 43 years. That’s 15,695 days. So, even if we count only dinners, and consider that, on average, we either went out or ordered take-out food for 2 of the 7 days of each week, that’s still somewhere in the neighborhood of 11,000 meals. Ok, ok – I’ll take off another 1,000 for takeout.

That number should put me solidly in the ballpark of Malcolm Gladwell’s 10,000-hour rule for success. Phooey. I can guarantee you that quite a few of those meals were, at best, meh. A few were out and out disasters. But we persist – with enthusiasm. At worst, they make good stories.

My earliest noteworthy failure was a roast beef – in our first year of marriage. What I most remember is chewing and chewing and chewing. And deciding never to try that again. I have held to that decision.

Then there was the soup I worked on for hours before pouring the entire batch down the disposal. I recall that it had an overwhelming flavor of peanut butter, and I considered serving it anyhow, then changed my mind. That’s when I developed my mantra: If it doesn’t taste good, throw it out and order pizza.

In more recent years, there was the fried chicken I served to my gourmet group. Definitely meh, even after three rounds of experimentation. So sad. And just last week, I made The New York Times recipe from Ferran Adrià (yes, of el Bulli fame) for tortilla Española, which featured an interesting technique; but I actually tossed the leftovers after asking my prince if he wanted any more and he said, “No.” The tone wasn’t “No, thanks” or “Not tonight” or “Maybe for lunch tomorrow.” Just “No.” Now, I haven’t given up on that one, but the message from my first attempt was clear.

These are only a few I can quickly recall. I try not to dwell on them. So I encourage you, in these days when we are all – still – doing more cooking than usual, to try something new, something that sounds like fun or a great flavor. And regardless of how it turns out, don’t lose that enthusiasm.

* * *

In the spirit of trying something fun, I herewith present to you three – yes, three – recipes that I swear you can complete in 15 minutes. That’s 15 minutes each, of course, starting from when you’ve collected all the ingredients. Now, my darling hubby swears that I have no idea how long 15 minutes is. He’s probably right. But they really are fast and easy, and impressively flavorful.

So let’s just say that if you took an hour one afternoon (or at midnight, which is mostly when the KG gets inspired), you could whip these three items into shape and have the makings of several really nice dinners that can be ready quickly yet still feel special.

The first is Fennel Frond Pesto. Did you ever wonder if there was something you could do with those lacy fronds from the top of the fennel bulb? This is the answer. You know how much the Kitchen Goddess loves pesto. It’s sort of an obsession, but I can’t imagine anyone being hurt from eating too much pesto. This one in particular is delightfully herby, combining the slightly bitter flavor of the fronds and the capers that gets tempered by the mild meatiness of the olives and the creamy pecans. The lemon adds that light, bright element that just makes you want more.

I’ve used this sauce in just about as many ways as I could think of, and it works for all of them. Here's a sample:

● on scrambled eggs for breakfast
● thinned with a little extra oil and drizzled over asparagus or other cooked veggies
● as a crudité dip for raw veggies
● spread on baked salmon or whitefish.

I also gave small jars of it to two friends. One friend emailed me, raving about how wonderful it was on a dish of shrimp and pasta, and insisting on the recipe. The other returned the empty jar and told me that she’s not much of a cook but that if I make any more of this stuff, she’ll take another jar.

Fennel Frond Pesto

Inspired by Daniel Gritzer of Serious Eats (seriouseats.com)

Makes 2 cups.

Ingredients
2 cups fennel fronds, loosely packed (not the thick stalks – just the feathery fronds and the very thin stalks they grow on)
2 garlic cloves, coarsely chopped
⅓ cup seeded olives [KG used a mix of castelvetrano and oil-cured black Italian olives]
½ cup pecan halves (or walnuts or pine nuts-- try it with whatever you have)
1½ teaspoons Dijon mustard
juice and zest of ½ lemon
1 teaspoon capers, drained
rounded ½ teaspoon kosher salt
½ cup plus 2 tablespoons best quality olive oil


Directions
Combine all ingredients but the oil in the bowl of a food processor. Pulse the processor until the ingredients form into a grainy consistency. Set the processor to run and slowly add the olive oil. Once the olive oil is incorporated, run the processor for another 10-15 seconds to achieve a relatively smooth purée.

Cover and refrigerate until ready to use. Stores well in the fridge or the freezer.




*   *   *

I plan to try next with garnishes of crushed peanuts and matchstick cuts of cucumber.

Asian Peanut Sauce

I can’t think where I first stumbled across this, but as a huge fan of peanut butter (just not in soup), and an equally huge fan of that Asian peanut sauce, I had to make some immediately. It wasn’t a natural part of the dinner I had planned that night, but I didn’t care. And it was amazing. Like a friggin’ miracle. So there.

The sauce is not just good on noodles; it also works well as a satay sauce for skewered chicken or beef, or a dipping sauce for California rolls. And I have my eye on an Asian salad, but more on that another day.

Makes ½ cup, or enough to sauce 4 ounces of linguine pasta (or whatever kind of pasta you have in the house). But I was only cooking for 2. My new plan is to double or triple these quantities so I have some at hand when the mood strikes me. You might do the same.

Ingredients
Linguine or other long, thin pasta, or soba noodles
2 tablespoons smooth peanut butter
3 tablespoons hot water
1½ teaspoons sesame oil
1 teaspoon soy sauce
1 teaspoon Mirin (or rice vinegar, or cider vinegar in a pinch)*
2 teaspoons freshly grated ginger
¼ teaspoon powdered garlic*
Optional garnishes: crushed peanuts, sesame seeds, chives, cilantro, cucumber batons

Kitchen Goddess notes on the ingredients: 1. Mirin is a sweetened rice wine, so if you use a vinegar substitute, you may find that the mix needs a bit of sugar. My understanding is that brown sugar sweetens this dish better than white sugar. I used Mirin, because I had it. But of course. 2. You know what a purist the KG is, so this use of powdered garlic instead of fresh is an attempt to maintain the smooth texture of the sauce. If you don’t care about the texture and want a bigger garlic hit, feel free to use 1-2 small cloves of garlic, minced. 3. It is in fact easier to use 1/2 teaspoon of ground ginger than the 2 teaspoons of fresh, but if you like that bite that fresh ginger delivers, you'll want the fresh. If you just want the flavor, ground ginger will be fine.

Directions
Set a pot of well salted boiling water on the stove and cook the noodles until a bit al dente.

Meanwhile, combine the peanut butter and the hot water until the mixture is smooth and consistent. Add the remaining ingredients and stir well. Toss with the noodles and serve with garnishes of your choice.

*   *   *

Smoked Oyster Caesar Salad

Adapted from Justin Warner, The Laws of Cooking... and How to Break Them (2015).

You may remember the Kitchen Goddess’s fascination with Justin Warner’s debut cookbook, The Laws of Cooking... and How to Break Them. This young man has an amazing imagination when it comes to food and food combinations. Many of his ideas are just downright fun. Like this take on the classic Caesar salad, which uses smoked oysters (a KG favorite) instead of anchovies, and... [wait for it] oyster crackers instead of croutons. So easy, so different, so delicious.

Serves 4, though you’ll have enough dressing and croutons for 4 more.

Ingredients
For the dressing:
2 egg yolks
¼ cup fresh lemon juice
1 tablespoon Dijon mustard
2 teaspoons minced garlic
1 teaspoon Worcestershire sauce
2 teaspoons kosher salt
¾ cup vegetable oil (or other neutral oil like canola)
One small (3.7-ounce) can smoked oysters packed in oil

For the croutons:
2 cups oyster crackers
1 tablespoon extra-virgin olive oil
1 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper, plus more for serving

For the salad:
2 romaine hearts
2 tablespoons grated Pecorino-Romano cheese


Directions
For the dressing:
In a food processor (or a blender), pulse together the egg yolks, lemon juice, Dijon, garlic, Worcestershire and salt until thoroughly combined. With the machine running, slowly add the vegetable oil in a thin stream.

Drain the oil from the oysters, reserving 1 tablespoon of the oil for the croutons. Add the drained oysters to the dressing and pulse (blend) until smooth. Set aside.

For the croutons:
In a small skillet over medium-high heat, toss together the crackers, olive oil, black pepper, and the reserved oyster oil. Toast the crackers, tossing often, until they take on some color and start to brown. Remove the crackers to a bowl and set aside to cool.

For the presentation:
Swipe a spoonful of the dressing on each plate (to keep the lettuce from sliding around).
Lop off the base of each romaine heart, and slice the hearts in half lengthwise. Place a half face-up on the dressing, then drizzle with additional dressing. Top with croutons, additional black pepper, and a sprinkling of Pecorino-Romano, and serve.

Kitchen Goddess note: As I mentioned above, you’ll have lots of dressing from this recipe. You can either buy more romaine hearts and invite more guests, or save the rest for another dinner. Warner says the dressing is great in a potato salad, and I believe him. I like having some on hand anytime, as a dressing on other, relatively plain types of salads.

Sharpening My Wits

What’s cooking? Blistered Broccoli Pasta with Pecans, Pecorino, and Mint

I love writing – I really do. But there’s something about the pressure to come up with sparkling prose that makes me go to unusual lengths in lieu of putting my fanny in the chair and tuning up my word processing program.

Today, for instance, in preparation for writing, I have...

■ sterilized my sponges

■ removed the wax from my Christmas votives

■ pored through a collection of recipes to eliminate those I never really plan to make

■ honed my knives

■ invited a friend over for socially distanced coffee.

Whoa – wait a minute, you say. Let’s go back to that fourth item: honing your knives? WTF?

Yes, folks, honing my knives. One of my 2020 New Year’s resolutions, and perhaps the only one I’ve taken seriously. You should consider doing the same. After all, we still have lots of time on our hands.

This idea started with a notice that went out to “my people” – the Austin Food Bloggers Alliance – inviting the first dozen respondents to attend a knife skills class at Faraday’s Kitchen Store, a local Austin source for all things culinary. The main draw was a free Wüsthof knife as part of the class, as well as a delightful lunch prepared in the store’s test kitchen. Not surprisingly, the Kitchen Goddess didn’t waste a gnat’s breath before signing up.

The knife I chose was Wüsthof’s Classic 7" Hollow Edge Nakiri Knife. The Nakiri is a traditional vegetable knife designed for full, rhythmic chopping strokes (I’m still working on that “full, rhythmic” part) – perfect for slicing, dicing, chopping, and mincing. The KG’s favorite tasks. The square tip makes it one of the safest to use in the kitchen. The knives in this line are full tang – the blade is a single piece of steel extending the full length of the knife. I especially like the full bolster part, which is that piece of metal between the handle and the blade. It adds heft to the knife, but more importantly for me, it protects your fingers from pushing against the blade. It has a thinner blade than a traditional cleaver, and those vertical indentations along the blade create small air pockets between the blade and the food, reducing friction and drag between the knife and the food. That’s a nice touch when you’re slicing starchy vegetables like potatoes, which tend to stick to a knife’s blade.

The lead-off to the knife skills discussion/demo was a tutorial on knife care and use, which for my part was the highlight of the day. Most people don’t think about how much easier it is to cook with a really sharp knife; but the less energy you have to put into the chopping and dicing and slicing, the smoother and faster is the process. Of course, you have to be careful, because sharp knives can cut you before you even know it’s happening. But they make the job of cutting an onion, for instance, almost effortless, and with far fewer tears. Also, a dull knife is actually more dangerous than a sharp one, because the extra pressure you have to apply can cause the knife to slip and hurt you. 

So part of our lesson on knives was about learning how to use a honing steel, a piece of kitchen equipment that has baffled the Kitchen Goddess for years. But pay attention, and you, too, will want to pull out that honing steel from your knife block and set it to work.

For starters, when you use a knife, you cause the edge of the blade to become misaligned, which means it doesn’t cut properly. You have two ways to correct the problem: honing and sharpening. When you sharpen a knife, you grind down bits of the blade in order to produce a new, sharper edge. In honing, you’re just realigning the existing edge, even though the result seems to be much the same in effect. But honing will help you avoid resharpening a knife more often than you need to, which makes the knife last longer. The KG now hones hers almost once a week! Practice makes perfect.

If you’re looking for a honing steel or a knife, check out Faraday’s, Austin’s largest independent kitchenware store, with over 5500 different kitchen and cooks tools. (Such nice people, I should give them this plug.)

Then take care of your knives:

■ Wash and dry your knives ASAP after you use them.

■ Don’t put them in the dishwasher: the blade is sure to bang against other tools or dishes, dulling the knife and even damaging the blade. Also, depending on the type of knife, water and heat can damage the grip. So hand wash your knives with soap and hot water, and dry them right away (instead of air drying), to keep them from getting dull or rusty over time.

■ Don’t store your knives in such a way that they knock against other knives or tools. Some options: 

• Wall-mounted magnetic strip. Fine as long as your knives aren’t in a position to be knocked off easily.

• Wooden knife blocks. If your knife block is positioned at an angle, store the knives upside down (blades turned up), so the knife edge isn’t resting on the block.

• If a drawer is your only option, buy plastic knife guards that slip over the blades.

• If you are lucky like the Kitchen Goddess, you can use a large, shallow drawer that lets you store your knives flat. Be sure to use rubber drawer liners with an open grid, so the air can move around your knives.

One of my favorite features in my Texas kitchen. Right next to the stovetop.

 So, now that your knives are sharp, what can you do with them? This pasta dish is a snap to make – “a slam dunk,” as one reviewer put it. And if you don’t have all the same ingredients, feel free to substitute. The KG had a bounty of pecans, which she subbed for the walnuts in the original recipe. The nuts add a meaty flavor to what is an almost vegetarian dish. I say “almost” because there is the pecorino.

The key to the dish is in getting the broccoli properly seared, which involves relatively high heat and no touching. Oil in the pan, broccoli in the oil, and then leave it undisturbed. It’s the same as when you are sautéing any protein – chicken or meat or scallops – that maillard reaction between the protein and the sugars that causes the meat to get brown and crusty will do the same for the broccoli, producing a sweetness you will really enjoy.

Blistered Broccoli Pasta with Pecans, Pecorino, and Mint

Adapted from Dawn Perry in The New York Times (May 24, 2020)

In addition to the need for proper searing, the lemon squeeze at the end of the process is important. That little bit of pizzazz adds a fresh, clean taste to the food, and makes a real difference in helping the flavors reach their full potential.

Serves 4.

Ingredients

1 bunch broccoli or cauliflower (about 1 pound untrimmed)

10 ounces fusilli, farfalle or other short pasta (KG used a mix)

½ cup olive oil

½ cup pecans, chopped (can substitute walnuts or other meaty nuts)

1 teaspoon Aleppo pepper, or ¼-½ teaspoon red pepper flakes (optional)

1 lemon, zested (about 1 teaspoon) then quartered

½ cup grated Pecorino Romano or Parmigiano Reggiano, plus more for serving

1 cup packed fresh mint or parsley leaves (or a combination)

Kosher salt and black pepper

I had not enough of either farfalle or fusilli, so combined them. Use what you have.

Directions

Separate the thick stem of the broccoli from the florets and peel it, then slice it into rounds ¼-inch thick. Chop the florets into pieces a bit larger than bite-sized. Set the broccoli aside.

Bring a large pot of salted water to a boil (using about 1½ teaspoons of kosher salt per quart of water). Add the pasta and cook according to package instructions until al dente.

Kitchen Goddess note about timing: If you have your mise en place – ingredients chopped and measured and ready to go – you can prepare the broccoli in the same amount of time as the pasta takes to cook. The Kitchen Goddess isn’t always ready to meet this challenge, but she is dedicated to the journey.

While the pasta is cooking, heat the oil in a large skillet over medium-high. Add the pecans and Aleppo pepper (or red pepper flakes, if using), and cook, stirring, for 1-2 minutes, until the nuts have turned golden and fragrant. Use a slotted spoon or fine-mesh skimmer spoon to remove the nuts and whatever pepper flakes you can to a small bowl. (Hint: The original writer said to remove the nuts and pepper flakes, but I found that most of the pepper flakes will stubbornly resist removal.) Season the nuts with a thin sprinkling of salt and freshly ground pepper.

Add the broccoli to the skillet and toss it in the oil until the pieces are evenly coated. Use a fork or tongs to move the broccoli around in a relatively even layer so that most of the cut sides are in contact with the pan. Cover the pan and cook the broccoli, undisturbed, for 2 minutes. Remove the cover and toss the broccoli to get more of the pieces – or other sides of the pieces – into contact with the pan. Cover again and cook, undisturbed, another 2 to 3 minutes. Remove the pan from the heat.

When the pasta has reached al dente stage, drain it (reserving ¼ cup of the pasta water), and add it to the broccoli along with just enough pasta water to keep the pasta from sticking to the skillet. Toss the broccoli and pasta with the lemon zest, grated cheese, toasted nuts and half the mint/parsley.

Divide the broccoli and pasta mix among serving bowls and sprinkle with the remaining herbs. Add more cheese and a bit of olive oil if you want. Serve with the lemon wedges and encourage guests to squeeze them over the food.

Kitchen Goddess note: In an effort to be straightforward with this recipe, the KG followed it pretty much by the book. But she yearned to add little white wine. So next time, she’ll be tossing in 2 tablespoons of white wine as the pasta was added to the broccoli. Might also pour a glass for the cook. Try it yourself. Will keep you posted...

Celebrate Something!

What’s cooking? Black Bean/Avocado Tacos and Avocado Margaritas

Cinco de Mayo is here, and all I can think is, “Thank goodness for something to celebrate.” St. Paddy’s Day was all but lost in the confusion over who was sheltering in place and who wasn’t. We spent so much time cancelling flights and theatre tickets – I waited a full hour to speak to someone at United Airlines, and felt lucky to get them at all – that any thoughts of wearing green got mowed over by the need to wear masks. Easter came and went with online church services and only virtual hugs from my children and grandchildren, who were supposed to be hugging me in person. I didn’t even get to wear my new shoes.

So now that we’ve gotten used to the new normal, and are even enjoying various aspects of it, along comes a day without much heavy lifting, unless you count the energy it takes to raise a glass. As many of you may know, the celebration honors the Mexican Army’s victory over the French Empire at the Battle of Puebla in 1862. And who can object to that?

As it happens, the Kitchen Goddess has been experimenting with a couple of Mexican-ish dishes, which I’m happy to say are amazingly good, given their simplicity. And if you don’t have all the ingredients today, there’s always “mañana.”

The first dish is a vegetarian taco that uses black beans as the foundation. Folks, these are not your standard issue black beans, and – miracle of miracles – they start from a can. (Even the best chefs have the occasional recipe that uses canned beans.) But it’s the treatment that produces the magic. The source is Kendra Vaculin, who is a staff writer for Epicurious, and who refers to this concoction as The Very Best Black Beans In The World (her caps, not mine, but well deserved). You use the entire can, including the liquid, and “a bit of doctoring,” as Ms. Vaculin puts it. The entire process – including any chopping and measuring – took me less than a half hour. She describes the flavor as “vaguely Cuban,” which is close to Mexico, so I dove in.

Smokey and creamy, with a tiny bit of sweetness – those beans... let me just say that I’m not sure I will ever be able to eat canned black beans any other way. I used them to make tacos for my Prince and me, then bogarted the leftovers for my lunch the next day. And I can hardly wait to make them again. I'll just put it on my list, which is somewhere...

I saw a photo of the tacos and knew I had to make some. I’ve included the ingredients, but you can use whatever you have or what you like. They can be eaten hard or soft. We had them using soft corn tortillas because, as you may remember, the Kitchen Goddess doesn’t do deep frying. (Too hot, too messy.)

The second dish I bring you today is a version of margarita I came across in... (drum roll, please) Hawaii. Go figure. My hubby and I were on the island of Kauai, in a small town called Kapa‘a, at a tiny but inspired restaurant, "jo2," where the chef-owner makes whatever he feels like each day and the waitstaff adjusts. We were served these stunningly beautiful avocado margaritas, and, of course, the KG had to have the recipe.

In the restaurant, the bartender muddles the avocado with the cilantro, but the Kitchen Goddess thought a blender would be faster. And so it was. And when you are waiting for a margarita – especially in these COVID-19 times – fast is important.

But we have to make the food first. So here you go...

The Very Best Black Beans, in Black Bean/Avocado Tacos

Adapted from Kendra Vaculin on Epicurious, April 2020

Kitchen Goddess note: As with most taco recipes, the mix and quantity of ingredients is extremely flexible. This quantity of beans should be good for a dozen tacos (3 each for 4 people). I probably used a couple of tablespoons of beans for each taco. After that, I added two slices of avocado, a tablespoon each of the corn and bell pepper (so 2 tablespoons of the mix if you combine them as I did), and shredded lettuce, salsa, and cilantro. A list of other possibilities is below.

Serves 4.

Ingredients

For the black beans:

2 tablespoons olive oil

Sofrito 

½ cup diced (¼-inch) onion (about 1 small onion or ½ medium onion)

2 cloves garlic, minced

½ cup diced (¼-inch) red bell pepper (can substitute roasted red bell pepper from a jar)

1 15-ounce can black beans

½ can chicken/vegetable stock, or water plus ½ teaspoon Knorr chicken/vegetable bouillon powder

½ teaspoon ground cumin

½ teaspoon ground coriander

¼ teaspoon smoked paprika

½ teaspoon kosher salt

½ teaspoon freshly ground black pepper

1 tablespoon honey

1 tablespoon cider vinegar

For the tacos:

corn or flour tortillas (KG thinks corn tortillas work best here, but your choice)

frozen corn, thawed (or freshly cut from cobs if you have it)

diced red bell pepper

shredded lettuce

salsa

cilantro

Other possibilities could include diced jalapeño, red onion, shredded cheese (Monterrey Jack, Pepper Jack, queso fresco, or queso blanco), lime, and/or a dollop of sour cream. A note of caution: With too many ingredients, you risk masking the flavor of the beans, which would be sad. So try not to overfill.

Directions (for the beans)

Make the sofrito (the Mexican equivalent of mirepoix), by heating the oil in a heavy, medium pot or skillet over medium heat, and adding the onion, garlic, and red bell pepper. Stir occasionally until the onion and pepper are soft, about 5-6 minutes. If the sofrito starts to brown or burn, reduce the heat. Don’t let the garlic burn.

The sofrito. Notice that I used red onion. You should use what you have -- I did.

Add the beans and any liquid from the can into the skillet. Pour in an additional ½ can of water or stock, swirling it in the actual can so as to incorporated any bean pieces left behind. If you use water, also add the bouillon powder. (If you don’t have bouillon powder or stock, don’t worry. Just add the water.)

Stir the beans and liquid into the sofrito until well combined. Add the seasoning mix (cumin, coriander, paprika, salt, and pepper), and stir well.

Bring the bean mixture to a simmer over medium heat and continue to stir often. As the mixture cooks down, which will take 10-12 minutes, use a wooden spoon or spatula or some other weapon with a broad flat bottom (the Kitchen Goddess used a Pyrex measuring cup) to mash about half of the beans, which will also thicken the mix. (It should still look plenty chunky.)

As you stir, you’ll want to make sure the mixture isn’t sticking to the bottom of the pan. If you need to lower the heat, do so slightly. When the mixture looks thick enough that you can scrape a trail across the bottom of the pan with a spoon, remove the pan from the heat. Stir in the honey and vinegar, and let the mix sit for a few minutes before serving, as it will set up some as it cools.

Of course, you have to have something to wash these tacos down, so here it is.

Not quite as striking as the ones at the restaurant, but equally delicious.

Avocado Margarita

Adapted from jo2 restaurant in Kapa‘a, Hawaii

These quantities make 2 drinks, which is about all I can serve these days.

Ingredients

½ small avocado

2 tablespoons cilantro

3 ounces tequila (We used Don Julio Tequila Blanco.)

1 ounce orange juice

1 ounce freshly squeezed lemon juice

1 ounce simple syrup*

1 ounce Cointreau or other orange-based liqueur (We used Paula’s Texas Orange.)

Sugar or salt for rimming the glasses (I used a combination.)

Garnish: thin slices of avocado and small bright flowers if you have them

*Kitchen Goddess note: Simple syrup is one of those things I like to have always in the fridge. It’s indeed simple but supremely helpful for sweetening all kinds of cocktails, iced tea, iced coffee, lemonade, and other cold drinks. As a liquid sweetener, it’s much easier to blend into cold beverages than regular sugar. To make it, gently heat equal parts sugar and water in a small saucepan, stirring until the sugar is dissolved. Remove the syrup promptly once the sugar is dissolved, and store it in a sterilized jar in the fridge. Simple syrup made and stored this way will keep for at least a month.

Directions

Place all ingredients in a blender, and blend the crap out of it. While the blender is running, rim the glasses by dipping the rims in a shallow plate with about ⅛ inch of water in it. Spread the sugar/salt in another plate and when the rim has been moistened, carefully dip the rim of the glass into the sugar or salt or sugar/salt.

Add ice to the rimmed glasses and pour in your beautiful avocado margarita. Toast with “Salud, amor, y pesetas, y tiempo para gozarlos.” (“Health, love, and money, and time to enjoy them.”)