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
|
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
Print this recipe
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.
My love for lemons goes back. Way back. Way back to the days of when I was a wee lass and had to endure lectures from my dentist about how lemons would ruin my teeth. I, of course, never listened to him. And now that I no longer have dental insurance, I don’t have to listen to him at all. Hah! Wait, that’s not actually funny. Lemons are a staple of my diet, I add lemon juice to everything. I’ll even eat lemons as is, but that makes for awkward stares when out in public. I love, love homemade lemonade. No storebought brand compares, they’re always way too sweet for me. When I make lemonade, I like to err on the sour side. If you prefer a sweeter lemonade, just double the amount of sugar in the recipe.
Tip: Get twice the juice from lemons by microwaving them. It may sound a little silly, but this actually works. Gently poke the skins of the lemons with a fork and place them in a microwave for 20 seconds on high. Then roll them on a cutting board with your hands until the flesh of the lemons begins to soften. Cut and squeeze (or use a juicer) as usual.
Also, I’ll be announcing the winner of the giveaway on the 18th, so there’s still time to participate! Go, go, go, go! And good luck!
Classic Lemonade
Print this recipe
Simple Syrup:
1/2 cup sugar (double the amount for a sweeter lemonade)
1/2 cup water (double the amount if using 1 cup of sugar)
For the lemonade:
1 cup lemon juice (about 4 or 5 lemons)
6-8 cups of water (adjust to taste)
For serving (optional):
Mint
Lemon slices
Strawberries
Prepare the simple syrup. In a small saucepan, heat water and sugar over a low heat until the sugar has dissolved. Stir often. Remove from heat and set aside.
Meanwhile, juice the lemons. Add the lemon juice and simple syrup to a pitcher. Stir in 6 cups of water and add up to 2 cups more, if needed. Refrigerate until cold and serve with fresh mint, lemon slices, or strawberries.
Serves 8-10
Try the recipe index for more ideas.
Every time I want to complain about the weather, I remind myself that I’m not old enough to join AARP. I’m pretty sure you get to be a card carrying Weather Complainer once you join AARP. The thing is though, I haven’t seen much of the sun for the last 6 weeks and it’s totally crampin’ my style. I want to celebrate the bounties of summer and all the foods that go along with it, but it’s so drab and chilly. Once night falls, I want nothing more than to curl up with a hot bowl of stew (and my love, naturally). This is one of my go-to vegetable stews. It’s simple, filling, and hearty. No meat necessary and a cinch to prepare. Perfect for summers in San Francisco and an easy way to devour a bunch of vegetables all at once.
Oh! And how could I almost forget?
I was recently approached by the fine folks over at CSNStores.com about hosting a giveaway on my site. They sell everything from dinnerware, to cookware, to espresso machines. That means you could win a $25 gift certificate to any of their 200+ stores. If you’re anything like me, you’d take that $25 to buy something weird and impractical like a corkscrew or Pinocchio funnel from Alessi. Of course, you’re free to pick out whatever you like – even practical things. How quaint!
All you have to do to participate is 1) leave a comment (just one!) with your e-mail address so I have a way to contact you and 2) answer the following question:
What was the last memorable meal you cooked?
I’ll announce the winner on 8/18. Also, the giveaway is limited to those only within the US, Canada, the UK, und Deutschland. Due to shipping limitations, there are restrictions for those in the UK and Germany. You’d have to order from one of their UK or German sites, respectively. For everyone else, my sincerest apologies. For my next giveaway, I’ll be sure to include everyone. I won’t even forget Poland. Promise.
San Francisco Summer Stew
Print this recipe
2 tablespoons cooking oil of your choice
1 onion, diced
3-5 garlic cloves, chopped finely
2 carrots, chopped
1 medium zucchini, sliced and cut into half moons
1 28-oz can of diced tomatoes
1/2 cup water
1 bay leaf
1/2 teaspoon dried thyme
salt & pepper, to taste
1 15-oz can of white beans, rinsed and drained
1 1/2 lbs potatoes, chopped into bite-sized pieces
1 cup frozen green beans
optional: cheese (I used a mixture of parmesan, asiago, and romano), chopped parsley or basil
Heat oil in a large saucepan over medium heat. When hot, add the onions and cook until translucent, about 5-7 minutes. Add garlic and carrots, stir for about 30 seconds. Toss the zucchini into the pot and continue cooking for a couple more minutes.
Add the tomatoes to the saucepan, along with the water, spices, and potatoes. Lower heat and cover partially. Partially covered, let the stew simmer for 25 minutes, stirring occasionally. Add the white beans to the pot and continue simmering for another 10. The stew is ready when the potatoes are tender. In the last few minutes of cooking, stir in the green beans and continue cooking until heated through. Season to taste with more salt and pepper, if needed. Serve with cheese and fresh herbs, if desired.
Serves 4-6
Try the recipe index for more ideas.
Two summers ago, I took an accelerated German course at my university. The class is mostly a blur to me now. I quickly got lost in the sea of nominative, accusative, dative, and genitive pronouns. The course began two days after I arrived back to the States from Cairo. So I spent the entire semester accidentally speaking in Arabic, much to the horror of my Saudi Arabian classmate (“You’re an American! Why you speak Arabic?”). There were definitely a lot of highlights from that semester, like watching Lola rennt and translating Trio’s “Da Da Da” into English.
I spent much of that semester starving myself. Not because I was trying to lose weight or anything, mind you. Work and school were an hour away by bus and I was often too lazy to pack anything with me other than mujaddara. I’d leave for work at 10 or 11 in the morning, work until I finished everything for the day, study in the language lab, attend class, and finally catch a bus back home. I usually wouldn’t arrive home until about midnight. I’d collapse on my bed and repeat the same thing the next day. At the very end of the semester, our class threw a party. I was thrilled because this meant free food. The students brought the usual fare of cookies, brownies, and cakes. But our lecturer, a PhD student who was born in Turkey but grew up in Berlin, brought a “Turkish potato salad”. After I took one bite I asked, “is this sumac?”
She nodded.
I had never tasted sumac before, but I was just learning how to cook at the time and had read all about it. Sumac is a tangy, salty, and sour spice made from dried and crushed berries. It quickly became one of my favorite spices. Sumac is used primarily as a souring agent, it’s what the Romans used before the introduction of lemons. I use sumac in just about everything now – hummus, chicken, salads, lentils, roasted vegetables, and of course, za’atar. I’ve gone through almost a pound of sumac in the last 8 months (I obviously don’t starve myself anymore), yet I’ve never tried to recreate the potato salad that made me fall so in love with sumac. Until the other day, that is. I hope you enjoy it as much as I do. You may not be able to find sumac at your local supermarket, but it’s easily available at Middle Eastern groceries or online.
Sumac Potato Salad
Print this recipe
1 lb potatoes, chopped into bite-sized pieces
2 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
1/2 teaspoon red wine vinegar
1 tablespoon ground sumac
1/4 cup parsley, chopped
salt & pepper, to taste
Place potatoes in a saucepan filled with water and bring to a gentle boil. Continue boiling the potatoes until are tender, about 10-12 minutes.
While the potatoes are boiling, chop the herbs and whisk together the olive oil, vinegar, sumac, salt, and pepper in a small bowl. Drain the potatoes to a colander and then transfer to a large bowl. Toss in the dressing and the chopped herbs. Add more salt and pepper, if necessary. Serve warm or at room temperature.
Serves 3-4 as a side dish
Try the recipe index for more ideas.
Every Sunday morning, I plan our meals for the week. It usually involves scouring cookbooks, favorite food blogs, searching through hundreds of unorganized bookmarks (I should really do something about that), and writing my own recipes. For the past few weeks, I’ve abandoned that process altogether and have just gone produce shopping with only a vague idea of what to cook. This has mostly worked out fine, but I’m always left with uneaten produce at the end of the week. My eyes are bigger than what our appetites can handle, it seems.
As I raided the fridge on Sunday to start preparing dinner, I found two forgotten Persian cucumbers from the week before. They don’t show up at my local produce market very often. So I tossed them in my basket and made a mental note to make mast-o khiar, a yogurt-based Persian cucumber dip. Then I forgot about them. For a whole week. Tsk, tsk.
Like English and Japanese cucumbers, Persian cucumbers don’t need to be peeled or seeded. For this salad, you can certainly use common cucumbers available at your local supermarket or garden. Though I suggest peeling the cucumbers, since the skins are thick and bitter. This salad made for a cool, refreshing side dish, but it would also be great in a wrap or pita with tahini dressing, chickpeas, and alfalfa sprouts.
Cucumber and Radish Salad
Print this recipe
2 medium Persian cucumbers, sliced and chopped into small pieces
4 radishes, thinly sliced and chopped into small pieces
1/2 cup red onion, diced
1 tablespoon extra virgin olive oil
2 teaspoons red wine vinegar
1/4 cup parsley, chopped
2 tablespoons mint, chopped
1 teaspoon ground sumac
salt & pepper, to taste
In a large bowl, whisk together the olive oil, vinegar, sumac, salt, and pepper. Add the cucumbers, radishes, onion, and toss together. Now, add the fresh mint and parsley and toss together until thoroughly mixed. If necessary, season with more salt and pepper and serve.
Serves 4-6 as a side dish
Try the recipe index for more ideas.
|
|
