oven roasted cauliflower with parmesan, lemon, and parsley

On Sunday I awoke to a brisk wind and what really looked like a lot of dew. It’s that time of year I suppose. Jimmy was working so I decided to take a drive up north.

The leaves are starting to change color there. Just a little, but its happening. I rolled the windows down, threw on a sweater and my favorite Van Morrison mix, and said goodbye to summer.

I have to say though, as sad as I am to see summer leave, I’m sort of happy to see fall again. Sometimes I think I might like this time of year best. The sun still shines a little and the markets are filled with late summer bounty- tomatoes and corn, cauliflower curled into sweet green bonnets of leaves, and flower petals in bright oranges, reds, and pinks. It’s all just so pretty.

I spent the afternoon browsing the Bellingham Farmer’s Market and sitting by the sea and  came home Sunday night with big ambitions of baking a pie- one with figs and apples and a thick buttery crust. However the dough had a different idea for the evening which ended in way too much swearing and cauliflower for dinner.

I know what your thinking: “lady, enough with the cauliflower” but I didn’t set out intending to, I swear. Blame the pie dough, not me. In any case, it’s a very good recipe- bright and warming and surprisingly hearty.  I’m currently angling an excuse to make it again. Like the fact that it’s Tuesday and I haven’t had dinner yet.

oven roasted cauliflower with parmesan, lemon, and parsley

1 head cauliflower, sliced top-down into ¼ inch slices (don’t worry if pieces crumble a little)

olive oil

salt and pepper to taste

¼ cup parmesan

1-2 tablespoons lemon juice

handful of parsley, coarsely chopped

Preheat oven to 400 degrees Fahrenheit. Place the thin slices of cauliflower on a baking sheet lined with parchment paper. Drizzle generously with olive oil and slide pan into preheated oven. Let cauliflower cook until edges have started to brown (about 10-15 minutes). Toss pieces so that they flip to the other side and continue cooking until brown and bubbling (about another 10-15 minutes). Don’t worry if the edges of some of your cauliflower slices burn a bit, you want them to be nice and crispy.

In a large bowl, toss cauliflower with salt/pepper, parmesan, and lemon juice. Top with parsley and serve hot.

 

cauliflower gratin 

For me the kitchen is- and I think, in a way, has always been- a place to think and sort and work things out. Cooking forces me to slow down. It provides a time and a place for me to make sense of my feelings- to make sense of why life works out the way it does. I think we all find ways to do this- ways to celebrate the good and process the bad.

This week, people I love have been forced to deal with places and situations and decisions I can only imagine having to face.

Last night- with the oven on, the windows open, and the mixer on high- I thought about them. I thought about life and loss and love and how we deal with it all.

Life is hard- there’s no changing that- but things do get better. We grow and we learn and we heal… and then we do it all over again.

Cauliflower Gratin

I like to think of this recipe as my dinner in shining armor. It’s quick and warming and perfectly suited to those days that require nothing less than a comforting meal. The only thing it lacks, I’m afraid, is looks. But pay no mind- it’s soft and starchy and perfectly creamy and what it lacks in appearance, it completely makes up in flavor.

1 head of cauliflower (about 2-3 pounds), cut into large florets

2 tablespoons unsalted butter

3 tablespoons all purpose flour

2 cups hot milk (I used whole)

Pinch of salt/pepper

1/4 teaspoon nutmeg

3/4 cup freshly grated gruyere, divided

1/2 cup freshly grated parmesan

1/4 cup bread crumbs

Preheat the oven to 375 degrees F.

Cook the cauliflower in a large pot of boiling salted water for 5 to 6 minutes, until tender but still firm.

Meanwhile, melt 2 tablespoons of the butter in a medium saucepan over low heat. Add flour and stir constantly with a wooden spoon for 2 minutes. It’ll turn into a sort of thick paste but have not fear. Pour the hot milk into the butter-flour mixture and stir until it comes to a boil. Boil, whisking constantly, for 1 minute, or until thickened. Remove pan from heat and add salt, pepper, nutmeg, 1/2 cup of the Gruyere, and the Parmesan.

Pour 1/3 of the sauce on the bottom of an oven proof baking dish. Place the drained cauliflower on top and then spread the rest of the sauce evenly on top. Combine the bread crumbs with the remaining 1/4 cup of Gruyere and sprinkle on top. Bake for 25 to 30 minutes, until the top is browned. Serve hot or at room temperature.

I know I’m not supposed to say this, but I think the last days of summer are upon us. I’ve been feeling this way for about a week now. Low, grey clouds are beginning to blanket the city and daylight seems to be sneaking away earlier and earlier every evening. Last night we closed the windows and I found myself pulling on a pair of warm socks.

Don't get me wrong, I like these days- the anticipation of a season about to change. I like the nostalgia and the cozy meals and that familiar tug you feel when autumn is on the way. 

The problem is that I’m not quite ready for summer to end just yet. I’ll be ready soon. I’ll revel in the sweaters and scarves and  boots and layers. I just need a few more weeks of sun warmed tomatoes and days by the pool. Just a couple more weekends of late nights, and fresh crab, and fires on the beach. Then I’ll be ready.

In the meantime I’m going to sip something cool and soak in the beauty that that is the last month of summer. I hope you’ll be doing the same.

Happy Friday, friends.

raspberry shrub cocktail

1 teaspoon sugar, plus extra for garnish

2-3 Tablespoons Raspberry Vinegar (make your own)

prosecco

1 Tablespoon freshly squeezed lemon juice

lemon wedge

Moisten rim of a 12-16oz glass and dip in sugar. Add 1 teaspoon of sugar and raspberry vinegar and stir to combine. Fill glass halfway with ice and top with Prosecco. Garnish with lemon slice and serve immediately.

Adapted from Bon Appetit, August 2011

 

The Feeling That Comes

If you ask me, summer has picked a fine time to turn on the charm, being all sweet and sunny as it walks out the door, confident that in just a few short weeks we’ll be filled with deep nostalgia for the long warm days.

I’m not complaining though. We spent the weekend soaking in the warmth, staying out late, and relishing in the bits of summer left to be had.

On Monday we rode a ferry to Vashon and sat on the deck in the sun.  I cracked open a Rainier and after that I had one of the finest summer afternoons in memory.

There were buckets of crab and endless bottles of wine and a wood fire oven which we stood around like well-trained vultures, ooing and aahing, as each pizza made its debut.

When the crab ran out we threw some extra Rainiers in the boat and went on what Carrie deemed a cocktail cruise to get more.

It was a completely fantastic day- the salty air, the fresh food, the friends, the family, and that feeling that comes when you stare out over it all.

Matsoni's Fresh Crab and Truffle Oil Pizza

A few notes about making this pizza: First, when we made this the other night, I couldn’t find any truffle oil in my usual grocery store loop so I took the lazy way out and used olive oil instead. It’s a lovely complement to the crab so if you’ve got some lying around, have at it- but if not, don’t worry. Second, I left the amounts pretty open with these ingredients. Everyone likes to top their pizza differently so use more or less depending on what you prefer. Keep in mind though, that the less toppings you use the easier your pizza will be to maneuver. Third, the pizza sauce I used is just about as simple as they come. It’s my absolute favorite but if you want a little more depth, try adding different herbs or chopped garlic.

1 recipe favorite pizza dough- Whats that? You don't have a favorite pizza dough recipe? Try one  of  these.

1 28oz can San Marzano whole peeled tomatoes

1/2 tablespoon olive oil

¼ teaspoon dried oregano

Salt and pepper (to taste)

1 bunch fresh basil

8oz thinly sliced mozzarella

2-3 fresh crabs- boiled, cracked, and meat removed *note that amount will vary depending on size of crab

Freshly squeezed lemon juice from one lemon, divided (for drizzling)

¼ cup Truffle oil, divided (for drizzling)

Prepare your pizza dough. While dough is sitting make the sauce by pouring tomatoes into a large bowl. Mush the tomatoes together with a potato masher until they are mostly pulp and juice and no large pieces remain. You can also use an immersion blender but take care not to over-blend (this will cause the seeds to break apart creating a bitter flavor). Mix in the olive oil and the oregano and season with salt and pepper to taste. Set aside.

When you are at least 45 minutes out from baking your pizza, place a pizza stone in your oven and preheat to 550 degrees F. If you don’t have a pizza stone you can use the back of a baking sheet, however do not preheat the baking sheet prior to making pizzas.

When you are ready to bake your pizza, roll out the dough according to your favorite pizza dough instructions. Place prepared dough on a well floured pizza peel or wood cutting board. Spread desired amount of sauce on dough and add desired amount of fresh basil and mozzarella. Top with a small handful of fresh crab and transfer to oven. Cook for about 10 minutes, or until cheese has melted and the edges/crust have browned. *Note that time will vary depending on dough recipe and individual ovens.

Remove pizza from oven and let cool for a few minutes on a wire baking rack. Lightly drizzle with oil and lemon juice and sprinkle with more fresh basil (optional). Repeat with any remaining dough. Slice and serve.




**Thank you to the Matson family, and to Carrie and Jeff, for inviting us over... and for all the food and wine and fun.

Slow Roasted Tomatoes

I can't believe we haven't talked about tomatoes yet. It's September 3rd, and we haven't talked about tomatoes. I've got to do something about that.

In truth, I wait all year for tomatoes to arrive. To me, they are summer itself, summer on a stem, and some days I find myself eating them to the near-exclusion of other foods because when they’re gone, I won’t taste them for a whole year. Not really, anyway.  I mean just look at them. The mere sight of these beauty queens makes me want to bust out the salt and do something completely immoderate.

Last night we sliced up a pile of baby heirlooms, lined ‘em up on a baking sheet, drizzled them with olive oil, and parked them in the oven for a few hours. Burnished in all shades of yellow, gold, red, and green- they were gorgeous. And they smelled fantastic. Jimmy picked up his fork, took the first bite, and then he began to swear. In fact, even a day later, we both seem to be having a difficult time discussing this dish without resorting to profanity. The slow-roast brings out a deep, dark sweetness, delivering a concentrated dose of flavor that belies their diminutive size and perfectly amplifies their fruitiness. They are, in a word, amazing.

 

Be warned, however, these tomatoes are so good, and so simple, it’s going to get you thinking about what to slow-roast next. I think Jimmy has secretly been on the search. I see him eyeing the onions on the counter and I don’t like the way he’s been looking at our carrots. I hid the rest of the zucchini. I’m keeping an eye on him.  

Slow-Roasted Tomatoes

What follows is closer to a set of guidelines than it is to a real recipe, so do with it what you will. Try different tomatoes, swap out different herbs, add some spice, play with the amounts of garlic, the ideas are endless...

Fresh tomatoes- preferably cherry, grape, or roma

Fresh rosemary

Fresh garlic, unpeeled

Olive oil

Salt and pepper

Preheat the oven to 225. Slice tomatoes in half and place on a parchment lined baking sheet skin side down. Sprinkle with herbs and toss on the unpeeled garlic cloves. Drizzle with a small amount of olive oil and sprinkle with salt and pepper to taste. Roast tomatoes for at least three hours until they have shrunken to about 1/3 their original size. They should look shriveled and dry. Cooking time will vary depending on the size of your tomatoes. Remove from oven and let cool completely (well at least try). Store in the fridge.