The Dinner Files

We ate dinner last week in an industrial space that had been re-done into a residence and studio that was so stunning that Ernest jumped up and down as he shouted “Mama, this is so cool!”

I had to agree. The space was cool, the company delightful, and the food perfection. I was offered the serving bowl filled this endive, herb, kumquat salad and took way more than my fair share. I have since made it three times for myself for lunch. I’m making it now, while the kumquats are plentiful.

Kumquat endive salad

This is the ultimate end-of-winter-almost-spring salad. The bitter chicory of winter with the bright tart sweetness of citrus and the fresh green promise of spring herbs. You might not be able to have a real spring salad yet – there is no asparagus in here, no hidden fiddleheads – but it’s starting to seem like you will if you just hang in there.

4 Belgian endives

about 10 sprigs parsley

about 10 sprigs mint

10 kumquats

2 tablespoons lemon juice (Meyer lemon juice works nicely here, too)

1 1/2 tablespoons vegetable or olive oil (nothing too strong!)

1/4 to 1/2 teaspoon salt

Cut off ends of the endive and pull apart into leaves. Cut leaves into bite size pieces, if you like, and put all leaves into a salad or serving bowl.

Pull off the leaves from the parsley sprigs and put them with the endive leaves. Pinch off the mint leaves and tear them into smaller pieces and add them to the mix. Cut the kumquats into quarters and throw them in.

In a small bowl, mix lemon juice, oil, and salt. Stir or whisk together an drizzle over salad. Toss salad to coat everything evenly with the dressing.

It ends up that yes, you can freeze tomatoes. Not tomato sauce, not tomato paste, not tomato puree (although all those things freeze just fine, too), but actual tomatoes.

I learned this indirectly from my aunt. Indirectly because she was not talking to me, but rather had left instructions with my cousin (her son) while she was out of town to pick the tomatoes from their ample garden as they ripened and put them in the bag already started in the freezer that she kept for all the tomatoes they couldn’t keep up with.

It’s been a great tip – especially since my dashing husband overestimates even his impressive tomato-eating ability when tomatoes are ripe and plentiful and cheap at the market. Once frozen, the tomatoes won’t work as fresh tomatoes – you wouldn’t want to make caprese salad with these, for example – but if you’re going to cook them anyway, it’s perfect. If you were going to peel them in the process then freezing has the bonus prize of making the tomatoes extremely easy to peel without the usual step of blanching them first.

So when I found a bag of Early Girl tomatoes from last summer in the freezer the other day, I decided to pretend it was summer (I needed a distraction from these gray days we’ve been having on the West Coast), if just a little bit. I smeared petrale sole with a paste of ginger and mint (notice all the mint on my table lately? That’s because mint grows like an invasive weed in Northern California, especially when it rains) and baked them, cooked a pot of rice, and peeled a few frozen tomatoes and then gently heated them up in a spicy yogurt sauce. I know it sounds a bit weird, but it is an unbelievably delicious flavor combination. The delicate fish – rice – tomato in spicy yogurt sauce combo was sublime.

Tomatoes in spicy yogurt sauce

I developed this recipe when I was working at Sunset and can never get over how good it is, or how tasty that sauce is on rice. I can now add to its many wonders how delightfully it makes use of frozen tomatoes.

8 ripe but firm tomatoes

2 teaspoons vegetable oil

2 teaspoons cumin seeds

1 teaspoon mustard seeds

2 Tablespoons butter, cut into small pieces

1/4 teaspoon turmeric

1/4 teaspoon cayenne

6 cloves garlic, minced

2 small hot green chiles, seeded and minced

1 teaspoon salt

1 cup plain whole milk yogurt (low-fat or fat-free versions will curdle)

If you’re using fresh rather than frozen tomatoes, blanch tomatoes to make peeling them easier: bring a large pot of water to a boil and prepare a large bowl of ice water, cut a small “x” in the bottom of each tomato, dip tomatoes in the boiling water for about 30 seconds and then use a slotted spoon to transfer the tomatoes to the ice water, drain tomatoes and pat them dry.

If you’re using frozen tomatoes, just take them out of the freezer. In any case, the next step is to use a paring knife to gently peel off the tomato skins and set tomatoes aside, whole or at least as whole as possible.
In a large frying pan, heat vegetable oil over medium high heat. Add cumin seeds and mustard seeds and cover. The seeds will start popping within about a minute. Cook until the popping slows down, about 2 minutes total.
Remove the lid and add the butter. When the butter has melted, add turmeric and cayenne. Stir and cook until brightly fragrant, about 1 minute. Add garlic, chiles, and salt. Cook, stirring, for about a minute. Reduce heat to low and add yogurt. Stir to combine.
Add tomatoes to yogurt mixture, Gently stir to coat the tomatoes with the sauce. Cook over low heat until tomatoes are just warmed through, about 5 minutes. Serve warm.

I have a weakness for celery. Good, fresh celery that has some solid celery flavor to it. I love the crunch of raw celery in particular. For years we’ve made a gingery celery salad with red onion sliced into it much like one served at the once great Eliza’s restaurant on Potrero Hill in San Francisco. The other night a bunch of fabulously crisp celery beckoned from the fridge, but neither ginger nor red onion were on hand.

So I sliced the celery as thinly as my attention span at the end of the day would allow, tossed in a handful of chopped mint, a few thinly sliced green onions, and a few drops of champagne vinegar. Sprinkle on salt as you like.

Easy, healthful, and just the thing to counter the heavy, rich foods of winter.

It might be possible for me to care less about horse racing, but I’m not sure. It’s not even a lack of care, it’s more an utter and complete ignorance that quite naturally manifests as a lack of interest. Even the crown of crowns – the Kentucky Derby – leaves me shrugging my shoulders and thinking that I’d rather take a walk. But then I remember mint juleps. Yummy delectable refreshing intoxicating mint juleps.

I was once in West Virginia (for a food writing conference at the justly famed Greenbrier Resort) and ordered a mint julep. The bartender very kindly asked me if I was certain that I knew what that was. Yes, I assured him, I did indeed. “Miss,” he said gently, “it’s a strong drink.”

He had clearly had more than one Yankee girl order what sounded like a sweet and fluffy drink only to send it back after one powerful, boozy sip. And, in fairness to his assumptions about me, I am most definitely a Northerner and I was wearing a rather sweet and fluffy dress. The kind of creamy feminine concoction that might make a person think that I like my drinks sweet and fluffy.

Nothing, of course, could be further from the truth. I like my drinks strong. Balanced, but boozy. Which was why I’d never had a mint julep before, precisely because I had thought they were sweet and fluffy. Word among the food writers at the conference, however, was that the bar was serving up some ass-kicking drinks, mint juleps in particular.

“It’s okay,” I told him, lying, “I’ve had them before.”

“You’ve had one here?” He asked.

“Yes,” I lied again, “they’re the best.” He nodded as he flashed me a smile and got to work. Out came the silver cup, in went the mint leaves and the muddling began. And then the muddling kept happening. And then he muddled that mint some more. I learned pretty much everything I know about muddling watching that man muddle, and the key is this: muddle way more than you think you need to. If you keep working at it those mint leaves will, eventually, give up all the minty-ness they have inside them to the drink.

Of course, some people prefer mint juleps made with sort of vaguely bruised mint leaves. And that’s cool. Whatever. To each their own, right? For that you just pour yourself a glass of bourbon on the rocks, scrunch up a mint leaf or two and throw them in. For a real cocktail, though, you’re going to need to work a bit. Don’t worry, I promise you’ll find it totally and completely worth the effort as soon as you take the first sip. And after a a few more sips you’ll quite happily forget all about the muddling because what happens after the muddling is this: you pour in a large amount of bourbon.

Then, if you’re a bartender at the Greenbrier, you add a large sprig of fresh mint and a faint dusting of powdered sugar and the whole thing which, remember, is served in a tall silver cup, looks about as sweet and fluffy and innocent as a drink could look. I’d never seen anything quite like it. He slid it across the bar and watched as I raised it to my lips and took a sip. Then I nodded as I flashed him a smile and got to work.

So whether you’re chomping at the bit to see who wins the Derby (sorry, but was I really supposed to resist?) or, like me, you would have to check, double-check, and triple-check when the race is because you can’t believe your luck that in randomly deciding to feature a State of the Week on your local foods website, Kentucky would fall during the week of the Kentucky Derby, I highly recommend you work a mint julep into your weekend. If you you are so fortunate to have silver or pewter cups, put them to good use. Can you see just that bit of frost that developed on the glass I used? Well, imagine what happens in a metal cup. That’s right: what happens is lots and lots of frost. It looks gorgeous and helps cool you down as the bourbon is heating you up. Specifics listed in this Mint Julep Recipe.