Menu for One

Summer Vegetable Tian - "Act Now! While Supplies Last!"

With the end of summer upon us, I'm dedicating the next few posts to summer produce so that we can all enjoy one last hurrah.

Do you remember this moment from the end of Disney's Ratatouille when the snobbish food critic Anton Ego sits down to a rustic ratatouille? The smell alone is enough to melt away his ego (get it? Anton EGO?), but one bite transports him back to the dinner table of his childhood, where he remembers his favorite dish prepared lovingly by his maman. Food can be powerful, and whether you're seated at the family table or dining solo like Anton Ego, a meal can be more than just the means to keep you going throughout the day.

I've enjoyed this dish twice this month, and each time it takes me back to the semester I spent studying in Paris. It was the first meal my host family served. I wish I could say that moment was as magical for me as it was for Anton, but alas, it was not. After a long day of traveling, I sat down at the table feeling awkward and self-conscious, trying to think of something, not even intelligent - just coherent, to say. As she would do every night, my host mother served a table red wine, a simple salad, three cheeses, and an entree. That night: ratatouille, the rustic stew of tomatoes, yellow squash, and zucchini. I remembered thinking, "Oh no! I HATE SQUASH! But I'm so hungry! I'm going to have to eat this and look like I like it.  If this is how it's going to be every night, it is going to be a LONG semester." [Ungrateful guest that I was, I ate every bite. My host mother turned out to be a wonderful cook (although she was too modest to agree) and I looked forward to every meal that she served.]

Unfortunately, I did not get this recipe from her. She often served a wonderful tomato tart (which I am still trying to recreate), and when I asked her for the recipe, she was genuinely surprised that I'd want it, because to her, these meals were nothing special. Alas, she did not cook with recipes, and so I have only my memories to go on.

A word to the Haters out there. If you don't like squash, or mushrooms, or green beans, whatever - I get it, believe me, I do. There is no rule that when you become an adult you have to like every food on the planet. However, it would behoove you (as my mother would say) to figure out what it is exactly that you hate. Is it a flavor or a texture thing? Or was it just the fact that your mother cooked it until it was limp and army green, and you haven't wanted to try it since? For me, with squash it's a total texture thing. So slicing the squash and zucchini very, very thin works for me. They get a little crispy. Plus, parmesan cheese makes everything taste better.

Vegetable Tian
adapted from Barefoot in Paris, by Ina Garten

Note: This recipe is very flexible, and can easily be adjusted to serve 1 or 30, using any rimmed, oven-safe baking dish.  I used a 7x10 inch baking dish (although I just got a 5x7 inch Le Crueset baking dish for my birthday - thanks Emily!) which would be even better when making this dish for one.  Try to cut the vegetables the same thickness for even cooking time.  I used a mandoline (take it from me and my bandaged finger, use the hand guard or a nifty kevlar glove like this one to protect your hand).  For the prettiest results, try to pick vegetables that are about the same size.

Olive Oil
1/2 to 1 whole yellow onion, cut in half and sliced
1 garlic clove, minced
3-4 gorgeous summer tomatoes
1 large or 2 small zuchinis
1 large or 2 small yellow squash
2-3 yukon gold or red potatoes (no need to peel)
kosher salt
freshly ground pepper
1/2 tsp fresh thyme leaves or chopped chives
handful grated Parmesan or Gruyere cheeese

Preheat the oven to 375F degrees and grease the baking dish (see Note above).  In a tablespoon of olive oil, sautee the onions for 8-10 minutes, until they become soft and translucent.  Add the garlic and cook for another minute.  Spread the onion mixture on the bottom of the baking dish.

Here comes the fun part.  While the onions are cooking, slice the vegetables into thin slices.  Ina sliced hers about 1/4 inch think, but I used the 3 mm setting on my mandoline.  Layer the vegetables tightly on top of the onions, alternating the tomatoes, potatoes, and squash in whatever order you like (one layer only, please).  Sprinkle with salt and pepper, drizzle with a little olive oil, and cover with foil.  Bake for 35 to 40 minutes.  Pierce a slice of potato with a fork - it should be tender.  Sprinkle the dish with the cheese, and cook uncovered for another 30 minutes to allow the cheese to melt and brown.

If (and I do mean IF) there's any leftover, spoon some of the onions and the vegetable mixture on top of a baguette for a great sandwich.  Bon appetit!

Chicken Saltimbocca for Two (or One)

Slowly, but surely, I am sprucing up this site.  I am no spring chicken when it comes to cooking, but definitely am one when it comes to web design.  Yesterday, I added a search bar that should make it that much easier to find recipes featuring particular ingredients or old favorites. 

To test out this new feature, I typed "chicken," and - low and behold - discovered that Menu For One did not yet mention a single recipe involving a chicken breast - America's favorite form of dinner time protein.  I shouldn't have been that surprised, really.  Truth is, I rarely buy chicken breast by itself.  Boneless, skinless chicken breast is the most expensive cut of chicken at the butcher counter, and so I've tried to either a) buy a whole chicken (cooking it all at once and using the meat over the next several days) or b) buy cheaper cuts of chicken (a la the bone-in, skin on chicken thigh, which by the way, is MUCH more flavorful).

 

But that does not mean that chicken breast cannot be good eats.  Enter Stage Right: Chicken Saltimbocca.  I am happy to announce that this recipe came from America's Test Kitchen's 2010 Special Issue "Cooking for Two."  You may remember that I asked for your opinion on their cookbook of the same name - do not be fooled.  This is merely a magazine edition featuring two person servings of recipes they've featured in their magazine throughout 2010.  [I feel like I'm the voiceover on an infomercial: "On newsstands now!"]

America's Test Kitchen was conscious that Menu For Oners hate throwing things in their refrigerator away, so they didn't write recipes that required only half a head of cauliflower or half a can of beans.  Last night I tried out Chicken Saltimbocca, and I can attest that it meets this criteria.

Suffice it to say, if you could only take away three things from reading this recipe:
(1) It's cheap.  I don't have the numbers in front of me, but I think it cost less than $7...and that was with me buying the ingredients at Whole Foods!

(2) It's well-rounded: it's tender, it's crunchy, a little bit salty, and smooth.

(3) There won't be any leftovers (unless you plan for them).

Without further ado, I bring you:

Chicken Saltimbocca
America's Test Kitchen

1/4 cup plus 1/2 tsp. unbleached all-purpose flour
2 to 4 (3 ounce) boneless, skinless chicken cutlets, 1/4 to 1/2 in thick*
Kosher Salt
Pepper
2 tsp. minced fresh sage, plus 4 large whole leaves (optional, but don't skip!)
2 to 4 thin slices prosciutto (about 3 ounces), trimmed to shape of cutlet
2 tbl olive oil, plus extra as needed
1 small shallot or 1/2 red onion, minced
1/3 cup low-sodium chicken broth
1/4 cup dry vermouth or white wine
1 tbl butter, chilled
2 tsp minced fresh parsley
1 tsp. fresh lemon juice

* For me, one cutlet is plenty...but most people probably would enjoy two.  

Using a paper towel, pat dry the chicken and season with salt and pepper on both sides.  Spread 1/4 cup flour on a plate and dredge the cutlets on both sides, shaking off the excess.  Lay the cutlets on a cutting board.  Sprinkle with the chopped sage and place a piece of prosciutto on top, pressing to adhere.

Meanwhile, heat the olive in a 12-inch skillet over medium-high heat.  Place the whole sage leaves in the oil and cook for 15-20 seconds per side.  Remove, and set on a paper towel (they should be a little crispy when you remove them from the pan).  Next, carefully lay the cutlets in the pan prosciutto-side down and cook two minutes on each side (or until no longer pink).  Transfer the cutlets to a plate and tent loosely with foil.

In the same pan, saute the shallot/onion in 1 tsp of oil for 2-3 minutes or until the onion is soft.  Add the 1/2 tsp of flour, stirring for a minute to get rid of the raw flour taste.  Whisk in the wine/vermouth, making sure scrape up the browned bits on the bottom of the pan.  Bring to a simmer and cook for 3-5 minutes, until the sauce has reduced to approximately 1/3 cup.

Return the chicken (and any juices on the plate) to the pan until the chicken is heated through.  Plate and return your attention to this magnificent sauce you have just made.  Turn on the heat, whisking the btter, parsley, and lemon juice into the sauce.  Give it a taste - does it need anymore salt or pepper?  Mine didn't.  You'll notice that the butter makes the sauce a little smoother; the lemon brightens the dish and will help balance out the natural saltiness of the prosciutto.  This, in my opinion, was the best part of the dish.  Spoon this magnificence over your chicken, top with the crunchy-fried sage leaves and serve.  I could barely wait until I got to the table.  Boring?  No.  Chicken again for dinner tomorrow night?  Yes, please. 

Broccoli Slaw with Almonds, Dried Cranberries, and Red Onion

With the advent of grilling season, I'd like to welcome you to Menu For One's Slaw Week!  What goes better with a hunk of smokey goodness straight off the grill than something colorful, crunchy, and a little tangy?

 

I didn't grow up eating slaw.  Not for any particular reason - I don't think my mom had anything against it, it just wasn't something she made.  If anyone did have something against slaw, it was me.  Slaw always meant little orange, white and green matchsticks of who knows what, slathered in mayo and vinegar, scooped into a little white paper cup and placed by the lunch lady on the side of my tray.  I don't even think I tried it (did any kid?).  And although I don't remember specifics, I'm pretty sure it wasn't worth much on the cafeteria trading floor.

Who knows?  For years, I may have been missing out.  If you've ever felt the same way, today can be the first slaw day of the rest of your life.  This first recipe of slaw week comes courtesy of Deb Perelman of SmittenKitchen.com, a woman with a serious hankering for slaw.  Aside from the buttermilk, you may already have everything on hand.

Broccoli Slaw with Almonds, Dried Cranberries, and Red Onion
by Smitten Kitchen

Take a head of broccoli and cut into thin slices.  I used my food processor's slicing blade - watching it just never gets old.  Toss then in a large bowl with 1/2 cup of toasted sliced or slivered almonds, a handful of dried cranberries, and half of small red onion, finely chopped.  

[With regard to the cranberries, my brother Stewart turned me on to Traverse Bay, a company that sells all sorts of dried fruits online.  I bought a box off of Amazon to see what all the fuss was about - Ocean Spray Craisins seemed fine enough to me.  But seriously, take the taste test challenge.  I ate these by the fistfuls.] 

Back to slaw.  In a small bowl or lidded jar, combine 1/4 cup buttermilk, 2 dollops of mayo, 1 tablespoon cider vinegar, 2 teaspoons of sugar, 2 tablespoons of red onion, finely chopped, and a pinch of salt and pepper.  Whisk (or shake if using a jar) to combine and toss with the broccoli mixture.  And you didn't even have to use the stove!  [no small thing on a day like today.  Here in Atlanta it was in the upper 90s and my A/C has been working overtime.]  If you wanted to, you could probably assemble this all outside next to the grill.  Depending on your appetite, there should be enough for lunch the next day.  Enjoy!

Next up: Raw(!) Asparagus Salad...

French Onion Soup

 

It has been freezing here, in a technical sense.  Yes, yes, I know it's probably been colder wherever you happen to be sitting, but for Atlanta, it has been unseasonably cold.  That's why I was thankful to have this french onion soup ready for me in my freezer.  

Everyone needs an emergency recipe like this in their back pocket.  It comes from a great cookbook I got for Christmas, Eugenia Bone's Well-Preserved.  She shows country folk and city folk alike how to can (aka put up or preserve) fruits, vegetables, or meats in small quantities, AND THEN shows you what to do with them when you open them up later, other than just eating them out of the jar.  The greatest part of the book is that, for a great many of the recipes, you don't need any special equipment.  This french onion soup is one of those beauties.  All you need is a large pot and some freezer bags/containers.

As with each of the recipes in the book, this recipe is made in two stages.  You start first by making Stewed Onions with Marjoram, to be divided into 2-pint portions and stored in your freezer.  Whenever you're craving something warm and seriously delicious, you just grab a pack out of your freezer and reheat it with some chicken stock.  Voila!

Over medium-low, heat 6 tablespoons in your largest pot (I learned this the hard way - you'll need plenty of room for the onions).  In the meantime, thinly slice 24 medium yellow onions.  If you have a food processor, this is a moment where your slicer disk can really shine.  It will save you a lot of time and tears.  Add the onions to the pot and let them hang out for 30 minutes or so, stirring every few minutes.  [If you're concerned after adding the onions that there won't be room for any other ingredients, don't worry - their volume will decrease significantly.]  Next, add two quarts of low-sodium beef stock and 3 tablespoons of dried marjoram.  I recommend low-sodium because it gives you a little more control over the saltiness of your food.  It's much easier to add a little bit more than to take any out.  Let this all hang out on the stove for an hour and fifteen minutes.  The onions will be soft and stewy.

When the mixture has cooled, I used tongs to transfer the onions to 6 freezer-safe plastic bags, then ladled in the broth.  End of STAGE ONE.

 

STAGE TWO: When you're ready to enjoy the soup, grab a bag from the freezer.  Defrosting it overnight would probably be best, but I just cut the bag open and reheated it over a low flame with a quart of chicken stock.  When I could see steam start to rise from the surface of the soup, I ladled it into two ramekins, topped it with some thick-sliced bread, and sprinkled it with shredded parmesan cheese.  After 5-10 minutes in a 400F oven, the bread had soaked up some of the soup and the cheese had formed a delicious golden-brown crust.  I'm happy to report that STAGE TWO took all of fifteen minutes to prepare, maybe less.  One portion from the freezer comfortably feeds two.  Enjoy!