Weekly Photo Challenge: Inside

18 Mar

The last time the weekly photo challenge was “Inside,” I ended up with a red pepper on my lap. This time, I was aiming for something more symbolic. Having spent all day yesterday inside (thanks to yet another snow storm), the theme of “inside, looking out” seemed apt. But inspiration failed to strike. So I instead turned to a photo from last summer, a hard-to-imagine time of warm weather and color in a garden humming with life. My choice is therefore symbolic of a deep yearning to be done with winter….

According to this week’s challenge, “So much of life happens inside something.” And that is never more true than when it comes to bees and flowers, partners in an intricate, reproductive dance that takes place inside the flower.

Recipe: Corned Beef with Honey-Mustard Glaze

16 Mar

St. Patrick’s Day at our house has always meant three things: 1) a visit from a  leprechaun who somehow always manages to turn all our milk green; 2) an evening meal consisting of corned beef with honey-mustard glaze, crispy roast potatoes, and cabbage sauteed in olive oil and butter ; and 3) a green dessert — usually a torte made with a zesty lime filling, courtesy of my daughter whose specialty that has become.

However, the corned beef is without doubt the pièce de résistance, despite the fact it requires only three ingredients. It is cooked twice: first simmered until fork tender, and then glazed and finished off in the oven. It is such a beloved dish that we only make it once a year, to retain its special status. But we always make sure to have plenty of leftovers to enjoy for a day or two afterward. Most recently, we made three corned beef briskets — enough for two full meals for four hungry people, with some snacking in between.

Corned Beef with Honey-Mustard Glaze
Servings: 4

1 pkg. flat-cut corned beef brisket  (3-4 lb.), with spice packet
whole grain Dijon mustard (roughly 2.5-3 oz.)
honey (roughly 1-2 tbsp., or to taste)

Preparation

1. Remove the brisket from the package; reserve the spice packet that is usually included. Note: if there is no spice packet, use 1 tbsp. pickling spice, or make your own with 1 tsp. yellow mustard seeds, 1 tsp. black peppercorns, 8 whole cloves, 8 whole juniper berries, 8 whole allspice berries, and 2 bay leaves; place the spice(s) in a small bowl and set aside.
2. Rinse the corned beef, then place in a large pot and cover completely with water. Bring to a boil over high heat, then reduce heat to a medium simmer. After the first boil, use a large cooking spoon to remove the foam that rises to the surface (I ladle the foam into a large bowl and keep the bowl by the stove until no longer needed). Keep removing the foam every 15 minutes or so until very little is being generated.
3. Add the contents of the spice packet (or your own reserved spices) to the corned beef in the pot, reduce heat to a low simmer (you want to see some gentle movement in the water, but do not want it at a full boil), partially cover the pot, and let the beef simmer for about 3 hours, or until fork tender. Top up with additional water as needed.
4. Carefully lift the brisket out of the pot and place on a rimmed cookie sheet. When cool enough to handle, use the side of a fork (the outer edge of one of the tines) to gently scrape off any fat that is on the brisket. Make sure to remove all visible fat.
5. Spray a baking dish (or another cookie sheet) with cooking spray, and place the brisket on the dish/sheet. Heat oven to 400 degrees.
6. Put the mustard in a small bowl and mix in the honey; adjust quantities of each to suit your taste. (I usually make the glaze without measuring either ingredient; I taste test until there is just enough sweetness to the mustard.)
7. Spoon the glaze over the corned beef, then bake until the corned beef is warm and the glaze is beginning to turn golden.
8. When serving, slice across the grain.

Weekly Photo Challenge: Perspective

9 Mar

When I saw this challenge, I immediately thought of the Long Room at Trinity College Library in Dublin. It is a beautiful space, more than 200 ft long (hence the name). The high, barrel-vaulted wooden ceiling is truly awe inspiring, curving gracefully downward to the second-floor galleries holding some of the library’s oldest books. Standing in the room, your perspective changes completely depending on whether you are looking straight ahead, straight up, or tilting your head from side to side.

  

Recipe: Bolivian Peanut Soup with Chicken (Sopa de Mani)

3 Mar

Bolivian Peanut Soup is a one-bowl wonder, the ultimate comfort food–especially with fried potatoes and queso fresco (or the un-Latin American but perfectly substitutable feta cheese) sprinkled on top. Traditionally, the soup is made with beef bones, but I prefer to make it with small pieces of boneless chicken breast instead; chicken and peanuts have a natural affinity for each other, and chicken makes the soup a bit lighter. This can easily be made vegetarian or vegan, too, by omitting the chicken and making the soup with vegetable broth. The 1 tbsp. chili paste listed here adds a mild kick to the soup–if you like heat, add more.

Bolivian Peanut Soup with Chicken (Sopa de Mani)

1 cup (150 gr.) roasted unsalted peanuts
3 tbsp. peanut or canola oil, divided in half
2 large boneless chicken breast halves (about 1.5 lb./680 gr. total), cut into small bite-sized pieces (about 1/4 inch)
1 lg. white onion, diced
1 large carrot, coarsely grated
2 tsp. cumin
1 tsp. oregano
1/2 tsp. turmeric (or palillo)
1 tbsp. aji amarillo paste (yellow chili paste), available at international/Latin food markets
2 lg. potatoes, peeled and diced
6 cup (1.4 liters) chicken broth
salt and pepper
chicken bouillon cube or powder (if needed)

Garnish
2 large potatoes, julienned, and fried in oil until golden
crumbled queso blanco (or feta)
chopped parsley or cilantro

Preparation
1. Grind the peanuts almost to a powder in a food processor (or pound them in a mortar and pestle in several batches); set aside.

Crushed peanuts

2. Heat 1.5 tbsp oil in large Dutch oven over medium-high heat, add the chicken, and cook until no longer pink; remove the chicken from the pot along with any juices that may have accumulated, and keep warm.
3. Add the remaining oil to the pot, then cook the onion and carrots until the onion is soft, stirring occasionally.  Mix in the spices and aji amarillo (yellow chili) paste and cook 1-2 minutes.

One of the many brands of aji amarillo paste

4. Add the potatoes and peanuts to the pot, and stir well to coat.

Onions, carrots, potatoes, peanuts, and spices

5. Pour the broth over the vegetables, cover the pot, reduce the heat to low, and simmer about 20-30 minutes until the potatoes are tender. Blend the soup with an immersion blender (or in a standard blender, in batches, returning soup to pot after it is blended). Add chicken pieces and accumulated juices to the soup  and simmer another 15 minutes, adding a bit more broth if the soup appears thick. Season to taste with salt, pepper, and/or a chicken bouillon cube or bouillon powder if needed.


Soup, pre-garnish

6. Before serving the soup, fry potatoes until crisp; salt lightly.
7. Ladle soup into bowls, top with fried potatoes, then sprinkle with cheese and parsley (or cilantro). Serve immediately.

Witch Hazel: A Friend in the Garden

1 Mar

More snow is forecast for Sunday/Monday. Mother Nature has been toying with us this season; it has been a dreary, harsh winter for those of us living in the Washington DC area, where winter is not usually so bad. Long-suffering friends in colder climes scoff at our feeble complaints, but we are all well and truly tired of winter and are longing for spring.

Which is why it is so nice to have some Witch Hazel in the garden: it blooms just when you have had enough of winter, and gives you hope that spring is not too far away. At the moment, this lovely Hamamelis x intermedia ‘Birgit’  is the only bright spot  in my garden, which remains braced for more bad news. Hamamelis x intermedia hybrids are crosses between Japanese and Chinese witch hazels. ‘Birgit’ is one of the darkest red (actually, purplish red) cultivars; I bought it for its deep color and also because ‘Birgit’ is the name of an old friend. My Witch Hazel is still quite small, but already it is living up to its namesake; it is a great friend to have in the garden, especially at this time of year.

  

Recipe: Red Lentils with Coriander and Cumin (Masoor Dal)

27 Feb

The first time I ever cooked red lentils, they promptly turned yellow and fell apart–which is what they are meant to do, only I didn’t know it then. Red lentils are lentils with the hulls removed; in addition, they are also usually split in half, so they cook (and disintegrate) fairly quickly. I look forward to this transformation, because the resulting golden, buttery, and aromatic stew-like dish is the ultimate comfort food served on top of rice, or even eaten on its own.

Most dal recipes call for spices cooked in oil (a tadka) to be added to the lentils at the end of the cooking time. This recipe also calls for cooked onions, garlic, and spices to be added at the beginning, too. Mmm good. And even better because my husband made the version shown below (pictured with brown rice). This dal is great the second day because it thickens slightly and the flavors deepen, so it’s an excellent make-ahead dish.

Red Lentils with Coriander and Cumin (Masoor Dal)

1 c. (200 gr.) red split lentils/masoor dal
4 c. (1 liter) water
2 tbsp. canola oil
1/2 large onion diced
3 cloves garlic
1 tsp. coriander seeds
1 tsp. ground ginger
1/2 tsp. ground turmeric
1 tsp. salt
2 tbsp. canola oil
1 tsp. whole cumin seeds
1 tsp. ground coriander
1 tbsp. butter (14 gr.), optional
finely chopped cilantro, optional
fried onions, optional

Preparation
1.  Pick over the lentils, rinse thoroughly in a fine-meshed colander, and place in a heavy-bottomed pot along with the 4 c. water. Bring to a boil over high heat and remove any foam that rises to the surface.
2. Heat the 2 tbsp. canola oil in a skillet over medium heat, add the onion and cook until it is soft and translucent. Add the garlic and cook for 2-3 minutes, stirring frequently. Add the coriander seeds, ginger, and turmeric, and cook for 1 more minute. Add this mixture to the lentils; set the skillet to one side for later use.
3. Reduce the heat to low, cover the pot, and cook for about 30 minutes or until lentils are tender. The lentils will turn yellow as they cook and will disintegrate.
4. Toward the end of the lentils’ cooking time, heat the other 2 tbsp. oil in the same skillet over medium heat and add the cumin seeds. Let sizzle for a few seconds, then add the ground coriander and salt. Cook for 1 minute, then add the spices and oil to the lentils, along with the butter (if using). Stir to mix well.
5. Before serving, garnish with chopped cilantro and/or fried onions  if desired.

Adapted from Madhur Jaffrey’s Indian Cooking.

A Symphony of Orchids

22 Feb

If I have a green thumb at all, it is mostly due to luck. But that luck always runs out when it comes to orchids, with my green thumb (and the orchids) turning a dreadful brown. My mother, on the other hand, is an orchid whisperer. She has only one orchid at the moment, but it is lovingly tended and reciprocates in kind. When she is away, it is my task to water it, and I live in fear of killing it. Thus far, that hasn’t happened. But I can’t help but think it is aware of (and does not appreciate) my inferior ministrations.

Despite my ineptitude, I very much appreciate the ethereal beauty of orchids. So today, my mother and I headed to the opening day of a two-month exhibit, Orchid Symphony, at the U.S. Botanic Garden. It features a dazzling array of orchids in the Garden Court, set against a backdrop of classical music and the sounds of water cascading from fountains. Combined with the fragrant smell emitted by many of the orchids, it is a feast for the senses. But the exhibit goes beyond the Garden Court, with different types of orchids (jungle orchids, desert orchids, and orchids used for medicinal and gastronomic purposes) scattered throughout the Conservatory. Yes, that’s right: orchids are used gastronomically–or at least, one type is used very widely: vanilla is a member of the orchid family!

Altogether, there are more than 20,000 species of orchids (they outnumber birds 2 to 1, and mammals 4 to 1). Here are just 10 of them (hover over the photos to see the names):

 

 

 

 

Wintery Visit to the Brooklyn Botanic Garden

15 Feb

There are all sorts of reasons people visit gardens, from learning more about the plants themselves, to getting ideas for home gardens, to simply being in a peaceful, aesthetically pleasing space that allows them to recharge while communing with Nature.

Botanic gardens are indoor/outdoor museums, and I love visiting them–for all of the reasons above. I like to explore wide and far, taking advantage of the brief respite these beautiful gardens can provide while seeing and learning something new. But in the winter, it becomes a bit more challenging to visit gardens–it is cold and many plants are in their dormant phases. There is great beauty in a winter garden, but there is also great joy in being able to leave the cold behind and enter a warm conservatory full of tropical plants. That is one of the great attractions of a botanic garden in the winter.

During a recent trip to New York City (just after a major snowfall), we made a point of stopping by the Brooklyn Botanic Garden. It looked like a white wonderland…


… with snow and ice, and


frozen crabapple fruits.

 
The conservatory beckoned, with its various houses and pavilions. We entered shortly before the gardens closed for the day, but were able to appreciate some very welcome sights: a Cape Aloe flower and a Cardinal’s Guard flower (above), as well as the lovely leaf of a Garden Croton (below). For a moment, we forgot all about the storm outside.

Recipe: White Chocolate Dulce de Leche Cake

8 Feb

In our house, we love dulce de leche (we are not at all averse to eating it by the spoonful), and we really love the pastry cake known as Torta Chilena (delicate, crispy layers of pastry laced with the rich, caramelly spread–see the recipe here). But Torta Chilena is quite labor intensive (a labor of love, but laborious nonetheless). I wanted to make a slightly less time-consuming cake featuring dulce de leche–one that was special in its own right. The result: this White Chocolate Dulce de Leche Cake. It’s a more traditional cake-like cake (if that makes sense), but has lots in it to love. It does require more time than a box mix (though using ready-made dulce de leche will reduce the prep time), but it is so worth it.


White Chocolate Dulce de Leche Cake

–Cake
2 ½ c. flour
2 tsp. baking powder
½ tsp. salt
1 c. white chocolate chips, melted and cooled
1 c. butter
2/3 c. sugar
2 eggs
2 egg whites
1 c. buttermilk (or 1 tbsp. vinegar, plus enough milk to make 1 c.)

–Frosting
8 oz. cream cheese, softened
¼ c. butter, softened
1 c. confectioner’s sugar
1 c. white chocolate chips, melted and cooled

Filling 
1 recipe home-made dulce de leche (see directions below) — or use 1 (13.4-oz. can) prepared dulce de leche

Preparation
1. FILLING: To make dulce del leche, heat oven to 425º. Spray a glass casserole dish with cooking spray, pour both cans of condensed milk into it, cover the dish, and then set it in a bain marie (baño maria), which is a roasting pan filled with enough water to rise slightly above the level of the condensed milk in the casserole dish. Bake for about 2 hours, stirring periodically, until golden brown. Set aside and let cool. (This is the dulce de leche – there will be extra left over). If using prepared (canned) dulce de leche, proceed to making the cake. Note: you may need to vigorously stir (or even slightly heat) canned dulce de leche to make it spreadable.
2. CAKE: Reduce oven temperature to 350º.  In a glass bowl, heat the 1 c. white chocolate chips in a microwave in 30-second bursts, stirring after each, until chocolate is mostly melted. [Note: be careful with the melting process; overcooked white chocolate turns into a hard lump.] Stir the chocolate until it is completely smooth and let cool. Spray 4 cake pans with cooking spray, line with parchment paper, and spray the parchment paper. In a medium bowl, combine flour, baking powder, and salt. In a large bowl, beat butter and sugar until smooth. Gradually beat in the eggs and egg whites, then add the melted white chocolate and incorporate. Add half the flour mixture, mix in, add half of the buttermilk, mix in and repeat. Spread the cake batter evenly into the 4 pans. Bake for about 10-15 minutes, or until knife/toothpick inserted in middle comes out clean. Let cool.
3. FROSTING:  Beat cream cheese, butter, and confectioner’s sugar together in medium bowl until smooth, then stir in 1 c. melted white chocolate chips (see note in #2 about melting white chocolate).
4. ASSEMBLY: Place 1 cake layer on plate/stand. Frost the layer with 1/3 of the dulce de leche, then with 1/6 of the frosting–just enough for a very thin layer; you want to be sure to have enough frosting left for the outside of the cake. Continue stacking layers, and use remaining frosting to frost top and sides of cake. Chill 1 hour before serving.

What’s in a Name? Robin Redbreast

6 Feb

It’s February, which in the Northern hemisphere qualifies as being just about half way between Christmas and spring. So it’s appropriate to talk about robins right now. In some places, they are symbols of Christmas, and in others they are a sign of spring. Either way, the copper-chested birds are a cheery site to behold. Despite their burnt orange coloring, the birds were originally known as Robin Redbreasts–because 500 or so years ago in Europe, there was no name for the color orange. “Yellow-red” was as close as people got to describing that happy blend of the two primary colors. But when a certain citrus fruit became more widely eaten, the color found a new name: orange. The first recorded use of that word as a color was in 1512.

But back to robins. The color is named after the fruit, and the American Robin is named after the European one. Except that it is now clear they are not closely related. European robins are chats, while American Robins are members of the thrush family. One is smaller and rounder, while the other is longer and leaner looking. The only thing they share is  a spot of orange on the breast, and even then, one bird has a small copper patch high up while the other has a longer one most of the way down. And the rest of their markings are not very similar. But early Europeans encountering these birds in North America in the 17th and 18th centuries thought they looked like robins, and named them accordingly. 

blame these early settlers for the noteworthy bout of avian befuddlement I recently experienced. I repeatedly came across a very friendly little bird during the few days we were in Ireland at Christmas and took several photos of it, all the while wondering what it was and chiding myself for not knowing. It looked almost like a little sparrow, except for that orange coloring (and the beak… and probably a number of other things). What could that bird be? Imagine my chagrin when I discovered it was a robin–how is it possible to not recognize a robin when staring straight at one? I can only say that the robin I have always known is the American one, and I was unprepared to identify the European version. I offer up these photos as evidence: first a European Robin (Erithacus rubecula), then its American counterpart (Turdus migratorius).  And then I rest my case. (Not sure how much of a case it is, but I rest it anyway).