About 
Hi there, I'm Rose. I love to cook food - and eat it. If you have any questions concerning any of my recipes, drop me a line at:
Contact:
rose [at] avocadobravado.net
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Five years ago, I picked up French Women Don’t Get Fat by Mireille Guiliano. I wasn’t fat, but I definitely weighed more than I would have liked. About 30 pounds more. I wanted to maintain a healthy and balanced diet, but I had no idea how to even begin such a thing. I had no relationship or history with real food. I didn’t know how to cook. I didn’t know the slightest thing about nutrition. Like a lot of American kids who were born in the 1980s, food meant Happy Meals, Lunchables, and blue moon ice cream (okay, maybe blue moon ice cream is a Michigan kid thing). I was still in the mindset that if something was “organic”, it was better for you. In my case, that often meant justifying eating a box of cookies a tub of ice cream every week because it was organic.
The main message I took away from French Women Don’t Get Fat was that I could eat anything I’d like - in moderation. As far as I was concerned at the time, I ate in moderation, especially compared to my childhood. I’ve since grown to really hate the term “in moderation” because it means something different to everyone. Does moderation mean fast food twice a week instead of everyday? A 20-oz soda a day instead of a liter? There are now just some things I absolutely will not consume at all. Like soda, Happy Meals, and Lunchables, though I’m still on a quest for the perfect homemade blue moon ice cream. I did end up shedding those 30 extra pounds once I learned how to cook, so I guess I have a different meaning of what “in moderation” is now (whatever that means).
In the book, Guiliano recommended a 48-hour diet of a “magical leek soup”. The leek soup consisted of nothing but boiled leeks and water. What a great idea! At the time, I didn’t know what leeks even looked like, but decided to go ahead with the “diet” anyway. I blindly went into the grocery store, searching for leeks and was a little disappointed when I found them (“so, they’re like big green onions?”). I made the soup. Probably the first soup I ever made from scratch. I had a bowl and gave the rest to my dad. I didn’t touch leeks again for another three years. I’ve since grown to appreciate leeks, though I certainly don’t think I’ll torture myself with the “magical leek soup” again. I made this chickpea and leek soup earlier this week to accompany dinner almost every night. It was light, smooth, velvety, and incredibly budget-friendly. Really, it was probably in the $5-6 range for about 8 servings. Of course, I had to throw in a bulb of roasted garlic to the soup, since I can’t get enough of it.
Chickpea and Leek Soup
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1 bulb of garlic, roasted
1 1/2 cups dried chickpeas, soaked overnight
or
2 15-oz cans of chickpeas, drained and rinsed
2 tablespoons cooking oil
5 leeks (white and pale green parts), sliced
4 cups water, chicken or vegetable stock
1 bay leaf
1/2 teaspoon ground coriander
1/2 teaspoon dried thyme
salt & pepper, to taste
optional garnishing: chopped fresh herbs (chives, parsley, rosemary, thyme) and/or parmiggiano reggiano
If using dried chickpeas, soak them overnight in a large bowl with a quart of water. Rinse and drain the beans and cook according to package directions. If using canned chickpeas, rinse the beans for 30-45 seconds over cold water, this will remove 35 to 40% of the total sodium from the canning liquid (source).
Preheat oven to 350F. Slice the top of the garlic bulb open, revealing the tips of the cloves. Place the garlic bulb on a sheet of aluminum foil and drizzle a teaspoon of olive over the top. Wrap the bulb in the foil, place on a baking sheet, and roast for 35 minutes. Remove from the foil and let it cool until it’s easy enough to handle.
Meanwhile, heat oil in a large stockpot over medium heat. When hot, add the leeks cook until softened, about 5-7 minutes. Add the water or stock, bay leaf, coriander, thyme, salt, and pepper. Lower the heat and bring to a gentle boil and simmer for 15-20 minutes.
When the roasted garlic is cool enough to handle, pop out the cloves into a small bowl and mash with a fork until they form a paste. Mix the paste into the stockpot.
Discard the bay leaf from the soup. Working in batches, blend the soup in a food processor or blender until smooth. Return the soup to the stockpot, add more salt and pepper, if necessary. Ladle into bowls and garnish with freshly chopped herbs and cheese, if desired.
Serves 6-8
Try the recipe index for more ideas.
We don’t go out to eat very often, perhaps once or twice a month at the most. Partially because I really enjoy cooking and partially because I’m unemployed at the moment, which cripples basically every aspect of our lives – including discovering all the culinary treasures San Francisco has to offer. When Cory’s brother was here last week, we used his visit as an excuse to check out a couple restaurants. One of them was Parada 22, a newly opened Puerto Rican restaurant located on Haight street. In addition to entrees, we ordered a variety of interesting side dishes, including sweet fried plantains, mashed cassava root with onions, and a white bean soup with olives and a generous amount of cilantro. After leaving the restaurant, I made it my goal for the week to attempt to make everything we ordered at home. I was slightly horrified when my attempt at mashed cassava root didn’t work out very well, but I did successfully manage to make a soup that was loosely inspired by the white bean soup we ordered at the restaurant. Cilantro haters are totally not welcome here. Use lots and lots, be generous.
White Bean Soup with Olives
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1 1/2 cups dry white beans, soaked overnight
2 tablespoons cooking oil
1 onion, chopped
2 garlic cloves, finely chopped
1 teaspoon dried oregano
salt & pepper, to taste
2-3 tablespoons of tomato paste
3 tomatoes, diced
3 cups chicken or vegetable stock or water
1/2 cup olives (I used garlic stuffed green olives)
1/4 cup parsley, chopped
at least 1/4 cup cilantro, chopped
Soak beans overnight in a large bowl and cook according to package directions. Drain and set aside.
In a large stockpot, heat oil over medium heat. When hot, add the onions and cook until onions have softened, about 5-7 minutes. Add garlic and oregano and cook for another 30 seconds to a minute, stirring often. Add salt, pepper, tomato paste, diced tomatoes, and stock or water to the pan. Stir, reduce the heat to low, and partially cover the stockpot.
Bring the soup to a gentle boil and add the beans and olives. Let the soup simmer for about another 15 or so minutes, stirring in the parsley and cilantro just before serving. Season with more salt and pepper if necessary and ladle into bowls.
Serves 6
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Soon after my roommate returned to the States while I was still living in Egypt, I came down with the flu. Since I was living alone, my sweet grandmotherly landlady brought me a soup similar to this two days in a row, along with a large stack of aish baladi, Egypt’s national flatbread. Her version was slightly different, it didn’t contain carrots or celery, and the beans were partially mashed rather than puréed. I’d like to think of this as the Egyptian equivalent of chicken noodle soup, since it helped nurse me back to health. I’m not sick at the moment, but I don’t need an excuse to eat fava beans. I like puréed soups that are on the thicker side, so I only added two cups of stock. If you prefer a thinner soup, add a cup or two more.
Puréed Fava Bean Soup
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2 cups dried fava beans (broad beans)
1 large onion, chopped
2 carrots, chopped
1 rib of celery, chopped
3-4 cloves garlic, finely chopped
3 tomatoes, chopped
1 teaspoon ground cumin
1 teaspoon ground coriander
1/2 teaspoon paprika
4 tomatoes, chopped
1 bay leaf
2-4 cups chicken stock, vegetable stock, or water
cayenne pepper or red chili flakes, to taste
salt & pepper, to taste
1 tablespoon of lemon juice
1/2 cup parsley, chopped
For garnishing (optional): chopped parsley, lemon wedges, drizzle of olive oil
For serving: flat bread or pita bread
Cover fava beans with water in a large bowl and soak overnight.
Drain fava beans and transfer them to a large saucepan, with several cups of water. Bring to a gentle boil, reduce heat, and cover for 2 to 2 1/2 hours, until beans are tender. Stir occasionally. Drain and set aside.
Heat oil in another large stockpot over medium heat. When hot, add the onions, carrots, and celery. Cook, stirring often, for 5-7 minutes, or until the onions have softened. Add garlic, cumin, paprika, and coriander, and cook for another minute. Add tomatoes and bay leaf, cook for a few more minutes, or until the tomatoes begin to fall apart. Add the stock or water, bring to a gentle boil and simmer for a half hour. Remove and discard the bay leaf. Transfer both the soup and fava beans to a blender, working in batches, and puree until smooth. Return the soup back to the saucepan. Add cayenne pepper, salt, and pepper, according to taste. Stir in the parsley and add the lemon juice, just before serving. Garnish with extra parsley, lemon wedges, olive oil, and serve with flat bread.
Serves 4-6
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This was not the soup I originally set out to make. Yesterday as I went into the kitchen to start dinner, I opened up Sara Jenkins’ Olives & Oranges and had every intention to make Vellutata di Carote (Velvety Carrot Soup). Once I finished peeling and chopping the carrots and potatoes, I closed the cookbook and suddenly found myself cutting up ginger. I’ll make Sara Jenkin’s velvety carrot soup some other time, but I was ultimately looking for something more medicinal and comforting. 1/3 cup of ginger may seem a lot, but I thought it was the perfect amount – distinctly ginger-y without being too overpowering. If you keep up with this blog at all, surely you’ve noticed that I add curry powder to just about everything. It gives the soup a bit of a kick, but leave it out if you’re looking for something a bit more simple.
Oh, and for absolutely no reason whatsoever, here are some pictures from our trip to the beach on Saturday. Even after living in San Francisco for a year, I still find a new reason to fall in love with this city everyday.
Hello, ocean.
I would have complained how cold and windy it was if it weren’t so beautiful.
Sutro Baths. A public swimming pool (the largest in the world at the time) built in 1896.
The building housing the baths burned down in 1966, and was subsequently abandoned.
As a child of the Rust Belt, I’m used to seeing abandoned factories and businesses, but
it was really strange to see ruins like this.
Sutro Baths.
This sounded a lot like “WHOOSH-AHH!” Also, I couldn’t help but think of the opening of Carl Sagan’s Cosmos when I saw this.
Cory & I.
Carrot and Ginger Soup
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2 pounds of carrots, peeled and chopped
1 onion, chopped
1/3 cup fresh ginger, peeled and chopped
2 russet potatoes, peeled and chopped
4 cups stock, vegetable or chicken
1 teaspoon curry powder (optional)
salt & pepper
Optional garnishes: freshly chopped cilantro, parsley, chives, yogurt, sour cream, creme fraiche, heavy whipping cream
Heat oil in a large stockpot. Add onion and cook until onions are tender, about 5-7 minutes. Add ginger and cook for another few minutes. Add stock, potatoes, and carrots and bring to a gentle boil. Simmer for 25-30 minutes, or until carrots and potatoes are very tender. Transfer the mixture to a blender or food processor and blend until smooth. Return the soup back to the pot and season with curry powder, salt, and pepper. Ladle into bowls and serve.
Serves 4-6
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One of the best things about living in San Francisco is that I suddenly have access to foods that I didn’t even know existed a couple years ago. For example, a couple weeks ago Cory and I picked up a cherimoya from a local produce market. The cherimoya didn’t look like much, sort of like a pear and an artichoke. But it ended up being one of the most delicious fruits we had ever tasted (when we went to the same produce market last weekend, there were no cherimoyas in sight, unfortunately). When Cory made soto ayam a few months ago, the recipe called for fresh galangal, lemongrass, lime leaves, and candlenuts. Those certainly aren’t things that would be easy to find back in the Midwest, but are pretty easy to find here. The soup Cory made lingered in my memory and I finally made it yesterday. Since I started this blog, I’ve noticed that the more obscure the dish is, the more likely the post won’t get any traffic. A good portion of you may not be able to find kaffir lime leaves or fresh lemongrass in your area, so I’ve provided as many substitutes as possible. It won’t be quite the same, but use whatever is available to you. The soup can be personalized in a dozen different ways, depending on the garnishes you use. Feel free to experiment with the spice paste, too (try adding nutmeg, cinnamon, clove, etc).
Soto Ayam (Indonesian Chicken Soup)
(adapted from Javaholics)
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Broth
1 chicken, quartered (3-4 pounds)
2 quarts water
2 stalks fresh lemongrass, lightly pounded (use this substitute if unavailable)
6 to 8 kaffir lime leaves (or lime juice and lime zest)
salt, to taste (I added a tablespoon and a bit more just before serving)
Spice paste
1 1/2 teaspoons white peppercorns (or black)
1 tablespoons coriander seeds
1 teaspoon cumin seeds
6 shallots, chopped
3 cloves garlic, finely chopped
5 candlenuts (or macadamia or Brazil nuts)
1 finger of turmeric, peeled and chopped (or 1 1/2 teaspoons ground turmeric)
1 thumb size of fresh galangal, peeled and chopped (or ginger and a squeeze of lemon juice)
1 thumb size of fresh ginger, peeled and chopped
Extras
cellophane noodles
1 tablespoon fresh lime juice
Ideas for garnishes
Chopped cabbage
Fresh mung beans
Green onions
Fried shallots
Shrimp chips
Potato chips
Hard boiled eggs
Slices of fresh lime
Sambal
Quarter the chicken. Pour 2 quarts of water to a stockpot and add chicken, lemongrass, lime leaves, and salt. Bring to a boil and simmer for about 40 minutes. Skim the foam from the surface every 5-10 minutes. Remove chicken from the stockpot and place on a paper towel-lined plate. Let the chicken cool until it is easy enough to handle and shred it.
Meanwhile, grind the pepper, coriander, and cumin seeds with a mortar and pestle. A little at a time, add remaining spice paste ingredients (shallots, garlic, candlenuts, turmeric, galangal, and ginger) to the mortar and grind to a paste. Alternatively, use a small food processor instead.
Heat oil in a large skillet over medium heat, when hot add the spice paste and cook for about 5 minutes, or until the paste begins to separate from the oil. Add a little bit of broth to the skillet and mix. Transfer the spice mixture back to the stockpot with the stock. Now, add the shredded chicken to the stockpot along with a tablespoon of lime juice. Season with salt again, if needed. Simmer the soup over low heat for about 10-15 minutes and serve over cellophane noodles and a variety of garnishes (I went with shrimp chips, eggs, and green onions).
Serves 6
Not quite what you had in mind? Try the recipe index.
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