Because it’s been so beautiful out, we’ve changed some of our usual eating and cooking habits for the summer. We’ve been eating out a bit more and have been sharing more meals with friends. To counteract the cost of eating out more often, we’ve slowed down our grocery shopping routine (Incidentally that is not very hard to do considering you don’t need to cook as often if you eat out more).

Despite the fact that we haven’t really shopped in the last month, we’ve still been eating about as well as we usually do (one disclaimer: I’ve had a ton of fresh greens and herbs from our local community garden that I wrote about last time). That’s why you haven’t seen much of me here, I’m cooking some old favorites over and over again. It’s times like these where I’m really proud of my home cooking experience and the ability to keep a well stocked pantry and freezer.

Not writing blog posts (sorry about that, really), has also given me time to read some other great posts. These two say it all better than I ever could, and also came at the perfect time:

• A Guide to Using Dry Beans for Cooking by Trent Hamm over at The Simple Dollar – Trent has been posting some great frugal cooking guides this summer. I loved this post because I too have recently found the joys of keeping dried beans. I just throw each whole bag into a jar when I bring them home from the store, and they can last almost forever. I can throw a handful or two into any soups I’m making (skipping the soaking step isn’t ideal but can be done), or soak some all day for an easy dish that night. So many varieties of beans are healthy, delicious, cheap and easy to keep around. Dried beans are also easier to lug home from the grocery store than cans – which is important when you live in a 4th floor walk-up.
• At GetRichSlowly – Reader Story: How I Save Tons of Money by Grocery Shopping Once Every Three Months. This post’s title is slightly misleading as the author does get vegetables from a CSA biweekly, but the idea behind it rings true: shop less often and you’ll save money. Another point she makes that I believe in is that cooking out of your pantry forces you to be a little more creative with how you put meals together, and helps you develop a sense of what works together.

These two posts reminded me a bit of the sort of topics I want to cover here at Get Cooking: being creative and unafraid in the kitchen, cutting costs without sacrificing health or flavor. Stay tuned for some new recipes straight out of the pantry!

One year ago: Collard Greens with Chick Peas

Related posts:

1. Cooking and Eating as Entertainment

As promised, following up from last weekend, here are the results of the Mother’s Day soul food feast. I think the pictures practically speak for themselves. The food was a triumph! The only problem now is that since I know how very easy it is to make perfect fried chicken at home, I’ll want it all the time. I made a few adjustments to the recipes that were new to me (I can never resist). Keep reading for notes on how I made the perfectly fried chicken, sweet potato wedges and corn pudding.

My concerns about the crust on the fried chicken not being crispy enough if left to steam in the oil were unfounded. I followed Paula Deen’s grandmother’s recipe, as mentioned last week, except that I fried the chicken in vegetable oil instead of shortening. I set up less than an inch of oil in an enameled cast-iron French oven because I wanted to make sure I had a good lid to cover the chicken after it crisped. The cast iron also helped regulate the heat and keep the oil as hot as it needed to be to get a good fry over the course of many batches.

After the chicken had one flip, I covered the pan and lowered the heat just a little bit. For the dark meat, I left it covered for about 8 minutes, flipped the pieces and re-covered for another 5 minutes or so until I was sure the meat was done. The white meat cooked a bit quicker. Each piece was drained on paper towel and eaten right away. My mother, the chicken expert, said she had never had homemade fried chicken that didn’t come out either burnt, greasy, or too dry. This chicken was none of those things. The meat was moist and fell away from the bone (when there was a bone to fall away from). The crust was perfectly crunchy and golden, and not greasy at all.

While the success should certainly be attributed to the great recipe I followed, I also think it had something to do with the chicken I used. I bought two chickens on Saturday and butchered them myself that night. This was not only cheaper than buying pre-cut pieces of chicken; I got to trim all the parts to my own taste and not waste a thing. My best move, I think, was to take all of the white meat off the bone so that it could have as much surface area for crispiness as possible. All of the parts that didn’t make it into Sunday’s dinner went into my freezer stash for building chicken stock. And since the pieces were bought right before I needed them, I never had to freeze them, which surely increased their tenderness.

I just gave them a little dry rub with some seasoned salt and pepper the night before and they were ready to be battered and fried according to the recipe right before dinner the next day. Since my favorite part of fried chicken is the crispies on the outside crust, the only thing I would change when making this chicken again is to add salt and pepper to the flour dredge.

I didn’t have a recipe for the sweet potato wedges, and I was a bit worried about how to get them to come out crispy instead of mushy. After doing a bit of internet research, I gleaned tips from various blogs and threads and came up with a process that worked great for me. I cut the sweet potatoes into wedges, skins on. I soaked the wedges in cool water for 30-40 minutes. Then I let the wedges drain in a colander, preheated the oven to 400 degrees,  and lined two cookie sheets with parchment paper. I lined up the wedges on the parchment paper with plenty of space between so the potatoes would roast and not steam.

The wedges went in completely naked, without any seasoning or oil. Then, 15 minutes later, I gave them a flip and let them continue to cook until done. It took a couple of batches, but I was determined not to let them be mushy, so the extra time was worth it. The final product was tasty without adding any extra seasonings, but when I make them again I may decide to toss the wedges in a bit of sea salt the moment they come out of the oven, to encourage the flavors within each wedge to surface.

For the corn pudding, I mostly followed Paula’s corn casserole recipe. I didn’t have a box of corn bread mix on hand, so I just added the dry ingredients following a corn bread recipe I had on hand. If you do this, just substitute the box of mix with 1 1/2 cups corn meal, 1/2 cup flour, 1 tbsp baking powder, 1 tbsp sugar, and 1 tsp salt. I also left off the cheddar cheese, since my mom is not a fan. I might want to play with this recipe a bit more to get it a bit more pudding-like, but all in all, it was a delicious sweet and savory side.

The chicken was crispy, and oh so tender, savory and meaty. The sweet potato wedges had a satisfying crunch to them, along with a hint of caramelization. The corn pudding had firm little kernels that popped in my mouth, surrounded by a full-bodied spoon-bread, and was sweet, fresh and mild. The different textures and flavors of these three dishes, along with the moist bitterness of the red swiss chard and chick peas, came together in great harmony. The whole family really enjoyed everything, and all the extra chicken I made was gobbled up, which is a great sign of a meal well done.

All of this frying and experimenting with corn has got me craving something else wonderful, so expect to see me frying up some corn fritters here soon. I have a new recipe for them that I just can’t get enough of!

One year ago: Gyros Revisited: Beef

Related posts:

1. Mother’s Day Soul Food
2. Fluffy Corn Fritters, or are they Hushpuppies?

I know you probably think I’ve posted the same dish twice in a row. And honestly, considering the month I’ve had, I wouldn’t be surprised if I had done that. But no, I’m not that absent-minded (yet). This risotto has an even more winding origin than the last one I posted. If you are actually craving something like Roasted Red Pepper Risotto, I assure you there are far easier ways to come by it. One day I’ll probably try to figure one out. That day was not today.

I bought two gigantic red bell peppers on sale this week and I wanted to try something new with them. I found a tasty sounding recipe for a Roasted Red Pepper Tomato soup on Recipezaar. I’ve had some luck finding inspiration on that site before so I decided to give it a try.

We roasted the peppers in the broiler, turning every thirty seconds or so, until the skins were more or less black and blistery. Then we put the peppers into a paper bag and left them to cool. We peeled the burnt and crackled skin off and de-seeded the slippery roasted peppers. We gathered the rest of the ingredients. We didn’t know what the “chili paste” listed might be in this case, so I fashioned something out of dried chili flakes and hot sauce. We followed all the rest of the steps as written, and then blended it into a nice smooth soup. It was such a gorgeous red, I couldn’t wait to taste it.

What I haven’t mentioned, however, is that I have been fighting off a particularly bad sinus infection these last several weeks, and so my sense of smell, and therefore, taste, has been compromised. I can’t really tell – everything tastes fine to me. My mouth doesn’t seem to know what it is missing. However, when someone else tastes what I’ve prepared, I am reminded how off my senses are right now.

Neither of us is afraid of spiciness, so when Jen tasted the soup and announced that she couldn’t stomach eating more than a spoonful of it, I knew the spiciness must be really bad. I had been so worried about whether or  not the taste of roasted pepper would come through the tomato that I hadn’t even thought about how much spice I had added, or how it would intensify after being pureed.

After working so hard on such a beautiful soup with such prime ingredients, I couldn’t bear to let it go to waste, but it was late, we were both hungry and tired and there was just nothing that could be done to salvage it at that moment. I packed it away for the night, and we munched on the garlic matzoh we had made for dipping instead. I vowed to try again the next day.

I knew I couldn’t trust my senses alone if I wanted to fix this dish. We brainstormed ways we could cool the soup down to a point where it would be edible. First we thought of adding some dairy, to dilute it and nullify the heat. Unfortunately, the heat was too strong for that plan to be effective. The only other option we could think of was to use the soup as the liquid in a risotto. Since we had so recently made a tomato risotto, I was reasonably sure it would work. I crossed my fingers that it would take the heat down enough notches.

I started the risotto as usual, with about half a cup of finely chopped onion and a bit of olive oil in a pot. Then I added about 3 cups of long grain rice and allowed it to toast lightly and get coated with oil. Then we added a cup of the soup and  cup of water at a time, stirring and adding more even amounts of the liquids until the rice puffed and became creamy.

Somehow, magically, the risotto came out as the soup should have. Just a hint of spice, a creamy texture with notes of both roasted red pepper and tomato. It was delicious and I will have the leftovers for lunch this week. I didn’t get to have the soup I was planning on (next time I make it I won’t add spice until much later on in the process, and hopefully I’ll have my sense of taste back by then too), and the experience definitely wasn’t one I’ll willingly repeat, but it turned out delicious in the end anyway.

Hopefully you won’t take the above as instructions on how to make what turned out to be a fabulous dish. The real lesson I would want you to take away from this is that cooking is a creative pursuit. There is no one way to do anything. No matter how badly you think you’ve ruined a dish, a little creative thinking can probably remedy it. Just be patient with yourself and your ingredients and try to think outside the box.

I never would have thought about making risotto like this, but this winding road led me to an unlikely but appetizing dish. Now I’ve still got half the soup left – any ideas on what I could use the rest of it for?

One year ago: Tangy Pineapple Shrimp with Okra

Related posts:

1. Tomato and Sausage Risotto, à la Smitten Kitchen and Martha Stewart
2. Tomato Rice Soup
3. Saucy Apron’s Tomato Bread Soup

Still, there’s no need for you to suffer with take-out or instant foods for every meal just because your schedule has become too packed to keep fresh food around. These burritos are easy, flexible, and are a perfect example of a simple on-the-go meal that can run the gamut of flavors. I got the idea from The Simple Dollar’s Bulk Breakfast Burritos recipe but alternated some of my own favorite fillings to make them suitable for any time of day.

Recipe: Freezable bean burritos with a zing

Makes 8 burritos (multiply as needed)

• 8 medium or large flour tortillas
• 8 pieces of American cheese
• 2 batches of “Unfried” Black Beans mixed with a dollop of your favorite hot sauce
• 1 batch of Guacamole

1. Fill each tortilla as show above.
2. Fold the left and right sides in and then roll the bottom up until the burrito is closed. This is also explained, with photos, in the Simple Dollar recipe.
3. Wrap the burrito in plastic wrap. Freeze.
4. When you wish to eat, remove from the plastic wrap, wrap in a paper towel, and defrost in a microwave for about 2 minutes (power level – 50%), and then heat on regular power for about 1 minute.

These gooey, zesty little packets have brightened many a work day when I’ve been too rushed for breakfast or lunch. What are some other ingredients you would add to your frozen burritos? I’m about to make another batch and I want to plant some variety in my freezer this time.

One year ago: Vegan Extra Cheesy Grits

This picture would have been discarded if I hadn't noticed a longing face poking in.*

Half sour pickles, sometimes called “new pickles”, weren’t my favorite growing up. They were overlooked in the quest for the most lip-puckering sour garlic pickles. As my taste buds matured, however, I came to appreciate the more delicate saltiness of a good half sour pickle. From what I’ve noticed, half sours are made from very similar recipes to full sours, but are not left to ferment for as long.

After my recurring failure to make a good sour pickle, I experimented with the less intimidating half sour. I used the same recipe I had been tooling with since the summer. The first time I made them, I found the chips to be a little too small, so instead of using Kirby cucumbers the second time, I used some large jersey cucumbers. You could even use a long seedless cucumber (the kind that come in shrink wrap) for nice large sandwich chips.

Half sour pickles in their jar

I found this recipe on the blog Fork This. The procedure is very similar to the Bread and Butter pickles, except that the cucumbers pickle in salt brine rather than vinegar.

Arthur Schwartz’s Homemade Kosher Pickles adapted by David Lebovitz and Melissa Sands, Pickled Cucumber Recipe:

• 2 quarts water
• 3 tablespoons kosher salt – do not substitute table salt or sea salt
• 12-15 Kirby or small cucumbers, cleaned & sliced as desired
• 1 bunch of fresh dill, washed
• 1 teaspoon each: coriander, allspice berries, fennel seeds
• 4 bay leaves
• 4 cloves garlic, peeled and lightly crushed

In a large pot, heat water with the salt until dissolved.

Sterilize two 1-quart jars by running them through the dishwasher or filling them with boiling water and dumping it out.

Put two or three bushy sprigs of dill into each jar. Pack in the pickles, layering in each jar: 1 1/2 teaspoons spice mix, 2 bay leaves and 2 smashed garlic cloves.

Carefully pour in the brine to cover the cucumbers completely. Cover each jar with cheesecloth and secure with a rubber band or kitchen twine. Store in a cool, dark place for 3-6 days. When they have reached the desired sourness, put on a lid and refrigerate.

Following these directions, you may end up with extra brine, which you can discard or use to pickle something else. I followed the recipe mostly as written, except that I put the jars straight into the refrigerator to keep them from souring deeply. The result was a crisp, light, salty, dilly pickle. They were great on burgers, sandwiches, and just straight from the jar.

*Incidentally, the face pining away for those Kirby cucumber pickle chips (or maybe just the burger underneath them) belongs to the sweet little dog we adopted this summer, also named Kirby.

One year ago: Being Gluten-Free and the Benefits of Whole Grains

Related posts:

1. Bread and Butter Pickles
2. Brine-less vacuum pickles
3. Lemon Pickles

Hunk of a traditional raclette cheese

While grocery shopping last week, I noticed a wheel of raclette cheese at the cheese counter. The sight of that cheese brought back warm memories of the first time I tasted it, during my time in France, with my host family gathered around the table on a cold winter’s night. The memory of raclette, the meal and the cheese, struck me as a great way to spend the holiday with family.

Raclette is a type of cow’s milk cheese from France and Switzerland. The cheese has a ripe scent and a mild flavor at room temperature. When melted, the scent can be very strong. The flavor also increases, but, if you are put off by strong cheese smells, don’t be in this case: the cheese flavor is subtle and complex when melted, much like other cheeses used for fondue.

Potato and hard sausage for smothering with raclette cheese

Raclette is also the name of a traditional dish of those regions. In sum, the cheese is  melted and scraped onto a plate of cooked potatoes, with cured meats and pickles (like gherkins and capers) on the side. Melting the cheese can be done in a variety of ways – traditionally the round of cheese was placed beside a fire and scraped onto potatoes as the surface melted. A more modern technique includes the use of a raclette party set which is a kind of hotplate that diners can cook foods on top of and melt cheese underneath in an individual non-stick tray (my French host family had one of these).

Slices of raclette prepared for melting

Without a fire or a raclette grill, however, you can just put slices of the cheese on a cookie sheet and heat in a conventional oven at up to 400 degrees. Just watch the cheese and when it is all melted, remove the tray from the oven and slide it over the potatoes, and eat immediately. The cheese will firm back up pretty quickly and while it will still be delicious as it cools, the signature flavor most noticeable when it is freshly melted. After cooking for days, an easy meal of raclette was a great way to get the family around the table without much effort.

Cinnamon bread spreads to the South

Of course, with all the time we saved cooking by making raclette, we decided to whip up a batch of that Chain Letter Cinnamon bread, this time adding some nuts for decoration. We brought a starter with us down to Jen’s southern family and now, since it has split into four new starters, we can safely say that this Amish bread has invaded the South!

One year ago: Syrian Lemon and Olive Chicken

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1. Dilly Potatoes

Split-pea soup with crispy onions

Unfortunately for me, growing up I never knew a good pea soup, let alone one outside of the school cafeteria. My mom didn’t make pureed soups from scratch often, so for me the words “Split-Pea Soup” conjured up images of gelatinous vats of over-salted green-gray mush, not unlike in the Exorcist, that would send me running from the cafeteria when appearing on the menu.

So, it’s not a surprise that a couple of weeks ago when Sarah expressed an interest in making a batch after picking up some dried split-peas at the grocery, I needed a little convincing before I was ready to revisit that childhood memory. I’m sure that not all of you grew up detesting pea soup, but after one taste of Sarah’s simple and satisfyingly creamy concoction topped with crunches of bacon and sweetened slightly by carrots, I dropped all previous stereotypes of the heartily-satiating dish. Highly recommended for cold, wintry nights alongside a chewy piece of sourdough.

Recipe: Sarah’s Split-Pea Soup

Makes 4-6 hearty servings (for an entire single dish meal)

• 1 lb dried split peas
• 1 1/2 cups carrots, chopped
• 1 1/2 cups celery, chopped
• 1 cup yellow/white onion, chopped
• 3-4 cloves of garlic, roughly chopped
• 1 tsp crushed red pepper flakes
• 1 bay leaf
• 1 quart your broth of choice
• 1 quart water
• 2 tbsp olive oil
• salt and pepper to taste

1. Saute the roughly chopped vegetables with the olive oil in your soup pot.
2. Rinse the split peas and make sure there isn’t any debris.
3. When the onions are translucent, add the peas, seasonings and liquids to the pot. Stir and cover. Let simmer for 45 minutes.
4. Taste the peas to check for firmness. When the peas are soft (they may need 15-30 more minutes at this point), turn off the heat. Remove the bay leaf. If using an immersion blender, go ahead and puree the soup right in the soup pot until everything comes through smoothly. If using an upright(?) blender, allow the soup to cool a bit to make the process a bit safer.
5. Taste and add liquid (if too thick), salt and pepper to taste. The soup should be velvety and thick enough to coat a spoon.

Serve with a side of crusty sourdough bread, or garnished with some fresh ground black pepper, crispy fried onions, croutons, or even crumbled bacon.

One year ago: Lotus Root Salad

Related posts:

1. Flexible Bean and Barley Soup
2. My Grandma’s Vegetable Soup
3. Tomato Rice Soup

Crisp "pickle nickels" pack a multi-dimensioned flavor punch!

Of the three kinds of cucumber pickles I experimented with since the summer, the most successful were the “bread and butter” pickles. Because of their sweetness, these usually aren’t on my crave list. When I think of bread and butter pickles, I think of almost-neon manufactured, sickly sweet, acidic spears that seem to last indefinitely on supermarket shelves not because of their pickled state, but because of a long, unpronounceable list of artificial preservatives and colors. I’ll eat them every once in a while, but I don’t think I’ve ever had a hankering for one.

Fate, however, decided it was time I learned how good a well made bread and butter pickle could be. My two attempts at various sour garlic dills were mediocre at best (utter failures at worst – I’ll write more about these in future posts). Jen kept begging that we try something with vinegar. As luck would have it, a few days before I had planned another round of pickling experiments, I happened to catch an episode of Tyler Florence’s Food network show in which he made bread and butter pickles. They looked quick, fairly simple, and much tastier than the same sort of pickles in my imagination.

These surpassed my expectations considerably. In fact, they beat the pants off of the two other jars I made that same day (sour and half sour garlic-dills). They were a success and we ate them on burgers, sandwiches, sloppy joes (as Tyler suggested) and on their own. They kept their crunch and had an unexpectedly complex and pleasant flavor. They were slightly sweet, tangy and took on all of the spice notes in a way that the dills I had tried did not.

Because I’m me, I of course modified and substituted. I have no idea if what I ended up making can truly be called a bread and butter pickle, but the veil has been lifted from my eyes and I think I’ll be a little less judgmental about sweeter vinegar pickles in the future. If you tend to think about pickles as I used to, give these a try and let me know what you think.

Recipe: Modified Tyler Florence Bread and Butter Pickles

Makes a 1 quart jar of pickles

• 5 pickling cucumbers (about 4 inches long) or 2-3 larger cucumbers for a bigger chip
• 1 cup white vinegar
• 1 1/4 cup sugar
• 3 cups water
• 4 cloves garlic, peeled
• 1/2 tbs coriander
• 1/2 tbs anise seeds
• 1 tsp ground allspice or 1/2 tablespoon whole allspice berries
• 2 tsp turmeric
• 2 bay leaves
• 1 tsp Kosher salt
• Dash of freshly ground black pepper
• A 1-quart glass jar, sterilized by boiling in water

1. Wash and cut cucumbers. Tyler used a mandolin with a crinkle-cut, I just chopped chips about 1/4 inch thick. I used longer, fatter cucumbers so that the chips would be about 1 3/4 inches in diameter. I’ve found that bigger cucumbers will also be easier to cut uniformly by hand.
2. Add all of the rest of the ingredients to a saucepan. Bring to a boil, just until sugar and salt are dissolved. Allow to cool to room temperature (stir to speed this process). Cooling the liquid before adding to the jar keeps the cucumbers from cooking and losing their crispness.
3. Add cucumbers to the jar as tightly as you can. Pour in the cooled brine to cover all of the cucumbers. Save any extra brine to flavor another dish.
4. Seal the jar. I didn’t use a mason jar, so to give it a seal that would allow any potential gasses to escape, I put a folded square of paper towel under the lid and screwed the lid on tightly.
5. Put the jar in the refrigerator. The pickles will be ready to eat once cooled, but will taste even better if allowed to sit for at least 12 hours.

Note: These pickles are probably not meant to last indefinitely and should be kept refrigerated. They should be eaten within 6 weeks.

Related posts:

1. Half Sour Dill Cucumber Pickles
2. Brine-less vacuum pickles
3. Lemon Pickles

Steaming vegetable soup, almost as my grandma used to make it.

I was a pretty adventurous eater as a child, but not all of my cousins and siblings were. Every kid has at least one food they won’t touch with a ten-foot fork. From what I remember, it didn’t have much to do with taste. We just picked a food we were going to hate (mine was broccoli, which I now love) and would kick and scream if it was even on the same plate as anything we were going to eat.

With so many grandkids and so many different tantrum-inspiring vegetables to keep track of, my grandmother still managed to make a vegetable soup we all eagerly devoured. The secret involved never telling us what was in it and pureeing the whole pot. Brilliant. Even though I’m a huge fan of most veggies and would eat the soup no matter what was in it now, the blended creamy mix just hits the spot. It’s one of my favorite ways to remember my grandmother and being a kid.

That said, I have no idea how she made it, so I’ve come up with my own best approximation. If you’ve been reading this site for any length of time, you probably know by now that I’m not always a fan of specifics. This will be one of the vaguest recipes on this site, but I promise you, you won’t be able to mess it up! Just think of this soup as a great way to get rid of any old veggies clogging up your fridge, freezer or pantry.

Recipe: My Grandma’s Vegetable Soup

Makes 6-10 hearty adult servings

Vegetables, any combination of the following, totaling approximately 8 cups:

• onion
• garlic
• carrots
• celery
• green beans
• lima beans
• peas
• corn
• broccoli
• cauliflower
• okra
• tomatoes, tomato sauce, or tomato paste

Seasonings:

• 3 tbs olive oil
• salt and pepper to taste
• hot paprika, cayenne or red pepper flakes for a kick

Filler:

• ~8 cups of water with bouillon, or other flavorful liquid (vegetable broth, chicken broth, etc)
• Less than 1 lb of your choice of dried pasta (alphabet, ditalini, macaroni, rotini, rotelles, shells, wagon wheels, whatever you like, but I find smaller is better)

1. Fill a large soup pot with the oil and vegetables coarsely chopped (just small enough to cook, don’t worry about appearance since it will all be pureed anyway). Mix and match any vegetables you have on hand. The above are just suggestions, though I do recommend sticking with similar vegetables and leaving out starchy veggies like potatoes as they may give the soup a gritty texture.
2. Cover pot and cooking at a low/medium temperature until the vegetables are soft and bright. This will probably not take very long if using frozen or canned vegetables, maybe less than 10 minutes. Some fresh vegetables may take a few more minutes to soften.
3. Add 4 cups of liquid and stir well. Puree. I prefer using an immersion blender for this sort of thing, but if you don’t have one, you can puree in the blender in batches. Just be careful as it can be hot.
4. Add the rest of the liquid (or more if it is too thick). Season to taste.
5. Add an extra 2 cups of water and bring to a boil. Add the pasta. Cook until the pasta is “al dente” and then take off the heat.
6. Allow to cool for 15 minutes, which will cook the pasta a bit more. If the soup is too thick, add water and stir until creamy and soupy. Keep in mind that it will thicken a bit more as it cools. Serve hot, warm or cold.

Related posts:

1. Split-Pea Soup
2. Tomato Rice Soup
3. Flexible Bean and Barley Soup

Happy round lemon slices

This post has been a long time coming. I really wanted to make sure I liked these little guys before posting them. Last night, we finished the jar of lemon pickles we made around the time we had Iron Chef Lemons at work. That’s how many lemons there were – it took over three months for the two of us to eat the whole batch.

When faced with an abundance of lemons, I remembered my mother pickling pretty round lemon slices as a child. I didn’t enjoy the acidic taste then. But then, there are many things I didn’t enjoy as a child that I enjoy now. I decided that I had to make them myself before completely ruling them out.

Before calling my mother, as I tend to do in these situations, I decided to pull out my copy of Aromas of Aleppo: The Legendary Cuisine of Syrian Jews by Poopa Dweck. This book has saved me many a how-to phone call when it comes to family recipes. My mother heard of its existence a few years ago and went out and got one for every household in our family. The recipes are very close to the way my grandmother used to cook, and the pictures might as well be of my own family gatherings (right down to the dishes the author uses for olives!). I will say,  however, that since these recipes have been passed down so many generations without being written down, the instructions can often be confusing or include editing errors. I’ve learned to use this book as a guideline but not an exact set of instructions.

Sadly in all the months I had these around, this is the best picture I managed to take.

Luckily my instincts were correct; the book did indeed include the recipe for lemon pickles. The instructions didn’t make perfect sense to me, so I adjusted as I saw fit. I cut the lemons into slices instead of wedges, I added a bit more salt, a bit less lemon juice and alot less olive oil. Of course, this was my first time pickling anything so I know I made a few mistakes. Here’s what I did:

Recipe: Lemon Pickles, Syrian style

Makes 1 quart of pickles
Pickling time: 3 weeks to 1 month until edible

• 6 lemons
• 4 tablespoons kosher salt
• 1 teaspoon hot paprika
• lemon juice from 2 additional lemons
• 1 tablespoon olive oil
• A glass jar cleaned and rinsed with boiling water

1. Slice the lemons into beautiful rounds about 1/4 inch thick. Remove the seeds (you’ll thank yourself for that when you’re ready to dig into the final product). Place the slices into a strainer/colander over a bowl. Salt liberally and toss to make sure the lemons are covered thickly with salt.
   

   Lemons coated generously in salt, draining

2. Let stand and allow to drain overnight (though I think that just 2 hours would suffice if you are pressed on time).
3. After they have drained for a period of time, pack tightly into the glass jar, sprinkling the paprika and remaining salt every few layers.
4. Juice the 2 extra lemons and add the juice to the bowl that the sliced lemons dripped into.
5. Pour the juice into the jar and then top off with water until the lemons are just covered with liquid in the jar.
6. Top with olive oil. Seal the jar as tightly as possible.
7. Leave at room temperature and shake daily. After about 3 weeks, taste them and if the rinds are soft enough to eat, place the jar in the refrigerator.

Try these on a regular turkey sandwich or chopped and mixed into pretty much any kind of salad*. You can thank me later.

Some notes:

• Don’t be tempted to taste them earlier than 3 weeks into pickling. I tasted them 3 days after I put them in the jar and freaked out because they tasted like soap and I thought they were ruined. I forced myself to be patient after that and crossed my fingers that I hadn’t wasted all those lemons. I just had to wait for the salt to do its job – at 3 weeks on the dot they were not just edible but delicious.
• I’ve seen other lemon pickle recipes that say to discard the juice that is pulled out of the lemons in the second step because it is bitter. I’m not sure if that’s really the case, but if you find your pickles too bitter, you might try this technique the next time you make them. If I do, I’ll be sure to update the post.
• The original recipe says they will last for up to a year in the refrigerator and will continue to pickle – I am pretty sure they lasted in the fridge for months on end when I was a child. The pickles just got better the longer they were in my fridge, if we didn’t polish them off sooner I bet they would have been fine months later.
• The juice is probably the best part about these pickles. We used it as the flavoring in all manner of salad, and occasionally just sopped it  up with bread. Every once in a while I would replenish the jar with some water and give it a shake. Until close to the end of the jar there were enough lemons to keep the juice from being too diluted – in fact the juice was so concentrated the dilution enhanced it.

*For the record, we used little bits of lemons and the juice from the jar as dressings for many a green salad, baked green beans, steamed broccoli, warm quinoa salad, and even chicken salad.

Related posts:

1. Brine-less vacuum pickles
2. Bread and Butter Pickles
3. Velvet Lemon Mushroom Sauce