May 12, 2015

Green Salad with Toasted Sesame Vinaigrette

May 12, 2015/ Blair Cowan

Tonight's recipe comes from a 1967 newspaper article with the title 'The Three Faces of Tossed Salad.' Ahem.

Upon reading that headline, you, like me, might think that the article would hold three different recipes for salad-- or, at the very least, three variations on a single salad. Nope. The three faces of tossed salad are, I kid you not, 'appetiser, accompaniment to an entrée, or main course.' (Although the intro also mentions that a salad can also function as dessert, and I'm assuming the author means some kind of terrible jello-based 'salad' that I can only be grateful is not included in my box).

Anyway, this is the second (and last, to my knowledge) non-mayonnaise-based salad recipe in the box. At first I was kind of high-fiving Eleanor (mentally) for only owning two salad recipes (and one of the two has bacon in it, so I don't even know if that counts) and it was cracking me up that she lived in an era so different from our health-conscious one that she must not have even eaten much in the way of salads. Then I realised I think the only salad recipes I've ever used are... well, the two from this box. Salads are easy. I make them all the time without any guidance-- they're fun to assemble, they don't require much forethought or skill, and if you have a decent pantry, you probably already have the ingredients for a kickass homemade dressing.

As an aside, I always assumed everyone felt this way about salads, until I met Judson. When we were dating, he only 'knew how' (his words, not mine) to make one salad: a spring mix salad dumped out of a bag with Paul Newman balsamic vinaigrette on it. The first time I made salad dressing for us (because I was too poor to afford the $5 bottles at the grocery store), I thought his eyeballs were going to fall out of his head. He was so impressed that night that I've sometimes since wondered if it was half the reason he ended up proposing to me... you know, two years later. In fact, to this day in our kitchen, by Judson's request, I'm the only one allowed to make salads (he is the only one allowed to make eggs, which isn't quite a fair trade since I know how to make eggs, while he doesn't properly know how to make a salad, but I allow it since he always cleans the egg pan after himself).

This salad, though not super hearty, made a great light dinner with some roasted veggies. Judson loved it way more than I did-- I felt like it needed something to anchor it, like a piece of miso-roasted salmon or something, but it was definitely good. The sesame seeds and oil are the only ingredient in here that you might not have readily on hand, but I'd encourage you not to skip out on either one, as they are the thing that makes this salad really stand apart.

The best part of this recipe, as far as I'm concerned, is the ad in the corner of the newspaper that reads 'School Kids NEED SUGAR FOR ENERGY!' next to a giant bag of Dixie Crystals sugar. Truly the 1960s were a dark time for all of us.

The verdict:

3 spoons out of five. Judson would give it a higher rating than me, so if you trust his opinion, then this should probably have, like, 4 ½ spoons. But for me, if I'm going to take the trouble to follow a recipe for a salad, it better be mind-blowingly good, and this one just wasn't quite there (the original called for peeled tomatoes-- I mean, really?). The sesame seeds, though, were truly amazing-- roast them until they're nutty and brown, and the flavour will help set this salad apart from the kind you pour out of a bag. And it is spring after all-- maybe your make-your-own salad genes are a little rusty after a winter of pasta and chili and all things cosy, and if so, then this recipe is for you. You could make it a little easier by using premade croutons or salad from a bag, or you could easily make this vegan by swapping the honey for golden syrup, agave, or brown sugar. Even I can't ignore the fact that this meal is basically springtime incarnate. Eat it for dinner tonight, look out the window, and marvel at the fact that it's 9:30pm and still light outside.

The recipe:

Salad with Sesame Vinaigrette

THE DIRECTIONS:

Preheat oven to 176C/350F.
Toast sesame seeds by sprinkling them in a baking dish and baking for up to 30 minutes, shaking dish occasionally to promote even cooking.
Prepare croutons by placing bread in a baking dish and drizzling olive oil over it until it is well-drenched, then sprinkling onion powder, garlic powder, oregano, and 2 tbsp salt over them.
Bake croutons for 10 minutes, or until thoroughly browned and crunchy.
While croutons and seeds are toasting, prep the greens by washing them and tearing them into bite-size pieces.
Add onion, sliced into rings, and tomatoes.
Make dressing by combining pepper, mustard, and remaining 1 tsp salt in small bowl or jar.
Add vinegar and honey.
Stir in oil, whisking constantly.
prinkle seeds and croutons onto salad, toss well, drizzle with dressing and serve.

the ingredients:

3 tbsp sesame seeds
2 c dry bread, cubed
1 tbsp onion powder
1 tbsp oregano
1 tbsp garlic powder
2 tbsp + 1 tsp salt
1 glug olive oil
2 little gem lettuces, or 1 small head of leaf lettuce
2 good-sized handfuls spinach
1 handful cherry tomatoes, halved
1 small red onion, cut in thinnest possible rings
¼ tsp pepper
½ tsp dry mustard
5 tbsp white wine vinegar
1 ½ tbsp honey
¼ c sesame oil (or to taste-- I use much less)

May 07, 2015

Chocolate Diva Cake with Brown Sugar Frosting, or, an Ode to the Moms

May 07, 2015/ Blair Cowan

When I was a toddler, our house was broken into in the middle of the night, while my mom was home alone with my brother and me. (My dad was doing his residency at the time, and was on call at the hospital a few miles away). The only phone we had (it was the 80s) was on the other side of the house, and my mom, who was awoken by the sound of the burglar cutting through the screen of our back porch, had to make the decision of whether to stay with my infant brother and me, whose room was basically next to the porch, or to cross the entire house and call the police from the kitchen, which also overlooked the porch.

She chose, wisely but I'm sure with great difficulty, to sneak across the entire house, crouch behind the kitchen table, and call the police from the corded phone on the wall. At some point after cutting through the screen and getting onto the porch, the burglar got scared and ran off, and, as far as I know, was never caught.

I woke up to the sound of police in our living room, interviewing my mom while sitting at my dad's desk. I remember everything about that night-- how I immediately knew which police office was the boss, and how he had short grey hair and was so nice to me. I remember how when I asked what was wrong and why they were in our house in the middle of the night, before my mom had a chance to answer, he cut her off with 'there was just a turkey who scared your mom, so she did the right thing and called us to take care of it.' And I remember looking over at my mom and thinking she was silly for being so scared of a dumb bird that she called the police.

Years later when I asked her about that night, the only thing she said was 'I was always so grateful to them for not cursing in front of you.'

THAT is the only thing she took away from that night (well, that and the fact that she has never since lived in a house without a phone in the master bedroom). I often go years without thinking about this story, because my brother slept through the whole thing, my dad wasn't even home, and my mom never talks about it. But every time I remember it, I'm literally boggled at how totally fierce my mom is.

Seriously, she's the bravest person I've ever met, in big situations and small ones, and I've met a lot of people.* If everyone had a mom like mine, the world would surely be a better place, and while it would be a disservice to my mom to credit all of her awesome to Eleanor, I think it couldn't have hurt to be raised by a woman who embodied bravery in the way Eleanor did. My mom got all of Eleanor's good qualities and none of her bad ones... except for a complete inability to pronounce the word 'syrup' without making it sound like 'seer-up.' Maybe the same thing will happen to me someday.

So here's a cake for you to make this weekend. Make it for your mom, if she's lives nearby, and thank her for all the times she's been brave for you and fought on your behalf, all the times you don't even know about because she was too busy getting things done to stop and tell you about what a badass she is. If your mom, like mine, is on the other side of the world, then have a piece of cake for breakfast, call her this week and tell her how awesome she is. Chances are, she deserves to hear it. And if your mom is not around, then please accept the virtual hug I'm sending your way, and know that you are loved.

*Incidentally, she's also the single person most capable of embarrassing me, like the time she burst into tears upon meeting my college RA for the first time, or the time she offered to do my best friend's laundry when she came to visit me as a freshman at college, promising that she 'wouldn't even look at the undies!' Oh, mom. I love you.

the verdict:

This cake is astoundingly delicious, and it somehow gets even better as it ages... kind of like most moms. It's called Diva Cake, but it's actually simple to make and the results are fab (the frosting is a little more of a pain to put together, but the results are still worth it. If you don't believe me, then just use your favourite chocolate or cream cheese frosting in place of the below). Plus, it combines two of my favourite things: chocolate and brown sugar. The recipe boasts that it is 'tender, rich, and buttery,' and if that's not the most mom-like description I've ever heard, then I don't know what.

The recipe:

Diva Cake with Brown Sugar Frosting

THE DIRECTIONS:
CAKE:

Preheat oven to 176C/350F.
Line the bottom of two 9-inch round pans with parchment.
Beat egg whites until stiff, then scrape them out of your mixing bowl into a separate container and refrigerate until needed.
Wipe out mixing bowl, then cream together butter, sugar, and vanilla.
Blend in chocolate, then add the beaten egg yolks and mix well.
Sift together flour, baking powder, baking soda, and salt, then add to wet mixture with sour cream.
Beat until smooth, then add coffee.
Fold in egg whites gently.
Pour into prepared pans and bake about 25 minutes until fork inserted in centre comes out clean.
Allow to cool completely before frosting.

FROSTING:

Put all ingredients except vanilla into a pot over very low heat (use a double boiler if you have one).
Stir constantly, then turn up heat slightly and beat with a whisk.
After mixture has thickened, pour into a mixing bowl and beat until mixture will hold a peak.
tir in vanilla, then frost cake.

the ingredients:
the cake:

2 egg whites (yolks reserved)
1 c butter, softened
1 ½ c sugar
1 tsp vanilla
2 oz unsweetened chocolate, melted and cooled
5 egg yolks, beaten well (save your extra whites for the frosting)
1 ½ c sifted cake flour
1 tsp baking powder
¼ tsp baking soda
½ tsp salt
½ c sour cream
2 tbsp strong coffee

the frosting:

1 c sugar
½ c brown sugar
3 tbsp dark corn syrup (if you're in the UK, you can fudge this by using 2 ½ tbsp golden syrup and the tiniest little drop of treacle. DO NOT go overboard on the treacle, or your frosting will be molasses-flavoured, which takes away from the delicacy of this cake)
¼ c water
2 egg whites
¼ tsp salt
¼ tsp cream of tartar (optional, as I forgot this and my frosting was fine)
1 tsp vanilla extract

May 05, 2015

Tacos, or, officially, Hoparound's Hamburger Tacos

May 05, 2015/ Blair Cowan

When I was in undergrad, my best friend Rachel and I used to joke about ingredients for really obvious recipes: 'Would you like a gin and tonic?' we'd ask each other. 'I have all the ingredients,' we'd add slyly, and then we'd both crack up while one of us stirred the bacon we were cooking (we ate a lot of bacon in college), and the other one poured more gin. I feel similarly about this taco recipe: if you've ever made tacos, these are the tacos you've made. It's a self-explanatory recipe that doesn't really merit an explanation, but despite the dearth of Mexican restaurants here in Edinburgh, I always kind of assumed that everyone in this city was doing like Judson and I do and making their own tacos. Then I realised that no one else here eats tex-mex as frequently as we do, and that tacos are less commonplace the farther you get from... well, the equator.

There's only one store in all of edinburgh that sells la preferida. I never realised how important it would be to me until after we moved here.

This is food for the kind of people who like to eat but don't like to cook-- the kind of thing that I ate for dinner at least two nights a week before I got married and suddenly was able to try new recipes for someone besides just myself. (Someone, I might add, who was not content to eat tex-mex for 1/3 of his dinners each week.) But seriously: it's not a hard recipe, this one, and it's cheap. You can buy all the ingredients for these tacos for less than a tenner AND eat leftovers for at least three meals (which you won't mind, because they're delicious.)

So anyway, this one goes out to the Scottish readers, who, I've realised in the last few months, are not as familiar with Mexican food as we Americans are. Because, let's be real, this is not really a recipe at all. It's just an ad with suggestions on how to make tacos on the back of a recipe for quiche. But, rules are rules, and since I now live in a country where I've had to explain sangria, margaritas, and queso dip to different people in the last month, I figured it was about time I posted a recipe about this.

Happy Cinco de Mayo to those of you who are celebrating! And to everyone else, make these and a tall glass of sangria and you'll be well on your way to celebrating soon.

Happy Tuesday!