Tag Archives: Ottolenghi

Ice, writing, soup, and whales

1/8 HAIKU
A salt shard turns Finn
into a tripod — hop! hop! —
‘til I can remove.

Three writing workshops start back up this week, two I run, one attend. The structure is good, the connections, friendships. The break was really nice too. It was one week longer than planned on account of losing the internet right before going to California.

I didn’t make soup yesterday but did today. The addition of fennel and a dollop of freshly-made pesto made this batch a little different from my usual bean/tomato concoctions. Plenty by Ottolenghi the source.

His didn’t include sausage while mine used up some ancient andouille. Have no fear! I’ll survive. And if I don’t, Finn’s going down too!

Painting by Ginny Mallon (so love it!) and just received this week — two of her incredible cigar-box portraits. That’s Herman Melville on the left (with a whale inside) and Mark Helprin on the right (cats inside). I have read almost all of Helprin’s novels but never managed (shame on me!) to get through Moby Dick.

If you don’t already follow Ginny on Instagram, you should (@ virginiamallon).

*****

Lastly, two more screenshots from 2023

Food as ballast

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Food as sanity. Food as pleasure. Food as ballast, continuity, novelty. To prep food is to focus. That’s benefit enough, but there’s also how assembling ingredients performs a kind of magic, a magic that is at once artful and one of the most pedestrian domestic chores going. How is that possible?

Furthermore, because we get hungry over and over again, there’s no scrambling for motivation. It’s built in. How great is that?

This year has found me regularly trying out new recipes. Nothing as disciplined as working through a cookbook, but still . . .

4 garlic cloves, sage, mint, oregano, S&P, EVOO, and lemon juice

Sage and mint from the garden, oregano from the cupboard. I cooked the quinoa with a little saffron. The recipe didn’t call for that but one a few pages later did and I don’t know about you, but I often fudge things that way.

Since I don’t always have some of the more exotic ingredients, I apply a loose standard and that’s fine, since it’s not about perfect replication but rather about stretching my palate and experimenting a little, getting out of my domestic ruts.

For example, this Ottolenghi dish called for Persian dried lime powder and sweet potatoes. I used fresh lime zest for the former and left out the latter. I can see how sweet potato chunks would be a tasty addition, but the salad was PLENTY good without them (see what I did there?)

I gushed over this one in my usual over-the-top way. Oh my god — this one’s restaurant worthy! [Moan] Wow, this is good. Too bad we don’t run a B&B! Served a little bit warm, rice on the toothsome side, the feta adding a luscious creaminess, trust me when I tell you it was outstanding.

A few cherry tomatoes gifted from a friend’s garden added a perfect dash of color and acid, tasting like summer and sunshine.

My husband doesn’t say much (and I guess I gush enough for the both of us), but when he gets up for seconds, his opinion is clear enough.

Face flashback and two notes

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First the notes. A friend let me know that there are two kinds of persimmons; oblong /sweet and squat / savory. So the squat persimmon that sat on my kitchen windowsill could’ve been cut into wedges (while still firm) and tossed into a salad. Next time, I’ll know.

Second, I found some cilantro and so decided to modify the Ottolenghi recipe for a Sweet Winter Slaw. It was plenty good without the lime juice (used rice vinegar) or the macadamia nuts (I substituted pumpkin seeds). I skipped the tropical fruits and mint.* Served with a creamy potato leek soup, it was delicious.