Dinner with Kirsten

While I was in high school and college, I ran my parents’ farm stand during the summer months. We sold tomatoes, peaches, melons, but most of all, we were known for having the best sweet corn. Sometimes I would wake up at dawn to pick corn with my Dad. We would drive out to the field and work our way down row after row of dewy corn stalks, stuffing rough burlap bags full of bi-colored sweet corn. [Read more →]

I eat zucchini as part of almost every meal, especially in the summer. Geoff is getting tired of it. But this stuffed version is a great change from my normal steamed or sautéed dishes. A meatloaf-like filling is piled into the hollowed-out squash and baked until the topping is crispy and the zucchini is tender. I was exhausted when I made this at the end of a long workday, but this quick and easy dish was healthy and satisfying—perfect for a summer weeknight meal. I had to share it with everyone! [Read more →]

I’m so proud of this dish that I’ve rattled off instructions on how to make it to a handful of people, including the check-out guy at Trader Joe’s. It’s one of those golden main courses that can be made a million different ways, depending on the ingredients you have handy and what you feel like eating. With a little bit of chopping, a little bit of sautéing, a little bit of baking, it’s done and delicious.
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My Dad has a soft spot for mills (as in flour mills). My family used to visit them everywhere, on almost every summer vacation, and we would always leave with bags of freshly stone-ground flour, cornmeal and buckwheat. They would sit in the refrigerator for indeterminate lengths of time, dripped on and squeezed to the back by meatloaf and Diet Coke. The flours might have been stashed there for freshness (or because Mom doesn’t really like buckwheat), but our fridge was a ground-grain chamber of doom.

As I thought about it recently (I was reading The Pancake Handbook on the subway), I couldn’t point a taste bud at a single buckwheat memory. I though I liked it. . . At least I remember carrying bags of it home on several occasions and thinking that it looked promising and, well, I would like to like it.

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Chabichou du Poitou ($16 each at Artisanal Cheese)

Origin: France—This old French cheese is produced in a narrow geographic region in the chalky soils of Poitou between Paris and Bordeaux. The name is protected, guaranteeing authenticity of origin. (From www.ArtisanalCheese.com.)
Type: Semisoft
Taste: “Sweet, slightly minerally, and clean”
Season: Avoid December through May – winter is not goat’s milk season
Wine Pairing: White wine from Poitou or the Loire Valley (From The Murray’s Cheese Handbook)

I went to a “Cheeses of France” press event this week and gorged myself on some of the best cheeses I’ve ever eaten. I need to sort through my notes to identify my favorites (predictably, I liked all the extra creamy soft cheeses best). But this is one that they sent home with all the attendees. It’s goat’s milk cheese like I’ve never tasted—mild, creamy, melt-in-your-mouth, with an assertive flavor. The rind and outer layer are tasty, but the snowy white center is the stuff dreams are made of. It’s a little pricey for everyday eating, but I would definitely add it to a cheese plate for a special occasion.

I love hamburgers, but, as I mentioned earlier, I’ve been trying to eat healthy. So, I’ve been making turkey burgers about once a week for months. Faced with yet another package of ground turkey meat in the fridge, expiration date ticking down, I turned to epicurious.com for inspiration.

I’ve become a Sriracha addict, so I was excited to find an Asian style recipe that, though it didn’t actually call for Sriracha sauce, looked like a promising base for my new favorite condiment. The intimidating fiery red sauce is hot, of course, but also surprisingly tangy, sweet and flavorful, a perfect addition to almost any Asian food (or, as it turns out, turkey burgers).
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When my parents first bought the land that is now Vala’s Pumpkin Patch and Fall Festival, a pick-your-own pumpkin farm, they planned to sell strawberries. They planted acres and acres of the finicky sweet berries, placed ads in the local newspaper and sold them to whoever showed up. As an extra revenue booster, Grandpa Ernie planted rhubarb behind an old farm shed. Ironically, the hearty perennial outlasted the strawberry business, coming back year after year. Grandma Lois and I used it to pluck it out of the ground and make the most heavenly rhubarb desserts. It’s hands down my favorite type of pie, and one of my favorite summer flavors, along with sweet corn and tomatoes.

Rhubarb season has finally come to New York. I’ve been waiting since early May, checking the Union Square Greenmarket whenever possible, anticipating the weekends spent making rhubarb jam and pies and cakes. When I saw the pink-speckled stalks in a vendor’s stall Saturday, my mind whirled and I hardly even knew where to begin. Since I didn’t have time for jam and I knew Geoff and I wouldn’t be able to eat a pie by ourselves, I decided to start small with a cake.

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My idea of a “diet” is eating more apples than donuts on any given day. But it’s swimming suit season once again, that time of year when winter’s excesses are destined to be displayed for fellow beach-goers, making me wonder if I had to eat quite so many cookies and burgers this year. So anyway, I’ve been staying away from donuts (or at least trying to). But I’m running out of time—it’s been horribly hot lately, and I can tell a trip to the beach is imminent!

I always think of myself as a reasonably healthy eater, but in fitness magazines, the skinny girl dinner of choice is always carefully-portioned grilled chicken and steamed vegetables. If that’s what it takes to be thin, then I really don’t have the will to make it happen. But I have started putting my gym membership to good use, and I’m having fun with the idea of extra “healthy” meals.
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My favorite restaurant in Spain was a little Indian food place down the street from the restaurant where I worked. After a few weeks of eating exclusively Spanish food, I was ready for an injection of Indian spice. After I discovered it, my fellow American friend Jillian and I became obsessed and addicted. We were curry addicts. We went about once a week, scarfing down a three-course meal, along with naan and a bottle of Spanish red wine (we liked anything Rioja). Maybe it’s because Spain is closer to India than the U.S., or maybe my palate was starved for non-Spanish flavors, but I’ve never tasted Indian food as good. [Read more →]

I’m a sucker for a good time gimmick. I used to watch Rachael Ray’s Food Network show 30 Minute Meals, just waiting for the episode when she would be forced to turn to the camera and say, “Whoop-see! Guess we’re out of time!”

That’s why, unless it’s Thanksgiving or Christmas, I always flip to the “quick and easy” section of my favorite food magazines—it’s all I have the time or patience for. When I saw the “15 dishes in 15 minutes” feature in the June issue of Bon Appétit, I thought I would have 15 worry-free meals to look forward to. And I started with this simple pasta recipe. [Read more →]