Microwave tricks: keeping cool and colorful

Cold salad vegetables, water and fruit are always a key part of my survival strategy once the weather gets hot–and by hot, I mean by Pasadena standards, 90-plus, which it’s finally started hitting–along with a very large part of the US this week. It’s normal here, even though we had an unusually cool and rainy spring, and up until last week we were just into the 70s most days. Obviously it’s not normal to be pushing 100 degrees over so much of the country.

Even the newspapers that tend to carry all-brown/all-beige food pics along with their recipes are remembering and recommending fewer heavy starches, more vegetables and fruit as a hot-weather strategy.

Most veg and fruit you can just wash and nosh, which is perfect in hot weather. You don’t have to run the dreaded stove, and biting into fresh salad vegetables–tomato, pepper, cucumber, lettuce or cabbage–will actually cool you down. On one road trip a few summers ago I got a lot of eyerolls from my nearest and dearest for packing cucumbers–small ones, but whole–along with the usual sandwiches and water bottles. But when we hit a rest stop halfway to San Jose, they really proved their worth. It was a pleasant surprise that my kid and my husband both said so…

In any case, just wash and nosh the vegetables you can get away with raw, and the ones that do need cooking can go in a microwave for a few minutes so you stay cool in the kitchen.

With that in mind, I have a couple of colorful, cheap and very simple microwaveable tricks for the moment.

Multicolor carrots, no colors touching

You can now get big 2-lb. bags of multicolor carrots, even organic, for nearly the same price as orange whole carrots even at the big chain supermarkets like Ralph’s/Kroger, so I do. I love the look of the purple-and-gold “black” carrots when I first slice into them, but how do you keep the purple from bleeding onto the white or yellow carrots beside them? I still haven’t figured out how to keep the purple completely purple once they cook, because any acid or heat will turn the purple part maroon, but I have found a way to keep it from bleeding.

Start by grouping each color of cut-up carrots in a separate pile on an open microwaveable dinner plate or casserole dish. Sprinkle lemon juice and a drizzle of olive oil, maybe a grating of ginger if you have some, on each pile and mix it in gently. Then nuke the plate with its different piles of carrots for a minute or two on HIGH to parcook. That sets the colors without cooking the carrots to death. You can cook the carrots longer if you want to, or keep them crisp-tender. Mix the carrot colors together right before serving–they’ll end up looking fun and not tasting overcooked.

With seared salmon, these parcooked carrots are color-set and ready to finish in the microwave

Red Cabbage “Stir-Fry” Salad

Red cabbage, my relatively cheap perennial favorite useful vegetable (other than Fresno tomatoes and bok choy), is a little more cooperative about staying purple as long as you keep it with acidic ingredients. Usually I like red cabbage raw for salads, and occasionally in the winter I cook it in the microwave Swiss/German sweet-and-sour style, but I was in the mood for something more like a pan-browned stir-fry, only without actually bothering to stir-fry.

I had most of a head of red cabbage sitting in the fridge for more than a week, and I knew I had to use it up, probably cooked, though as lightly as I could get away with, because it was just starting to wilt and was no longer entirely crunchy. After seeing an article on charcoal grilling cabbage and romaine wedges as a dramatic 3-smoke-alarm barbecue side dish, I decided to cut it in thin wedges, cook it lightly in the microwave with a little acid to keep it purple and a little oil to keep it from being rubbery, and then decide whether I really wanted to pan-brown it or not.

…I decided to skip the pan-browning and just toss the microwaved cabbage with a few basic stirfry-type flavorings–vinegar, garlic, sesame oil, soy sauce, dab of molasses, hot pepper flakes, basically my version of a jao tze dipping sauce. I ended up with a surprisingly good impromptu hot salad that tastes something like the noodles from pad see ew or the chewy seaweed salad at a sushi restaurant. But bright vivid purple. In any case, it’s delicious, takes less than 5 minutes, and the leftovers are just as good–maybe even better–cold the next day.

Slice and toss with oil and vinegar

Microwave to set color

Add flavorings and microwave again

The trick for this dish is to keep both the color and the flavor bright while you keep the cabbage from going limp or rubbery. So just as with the multicolor carrots, it’s a two-step microwave. The lemon juice and/or vinegar go on with a little oil first, to keep the purple bright and the cabbage from going rubbery, you nuke it briefly just to set the color and parcook, then mix in the rest of the flavorings and nuke it again briefly to get it to the degree of cooked you prefer.

The amounts here are “use your best judgment”–you can use 1/4, 1/2 or the whole head of cabbage for this, depending how many servings you want to make. I did about 1/4 head of a medium cabbage for 2-3 servings, so the dressing amounts are for that but can stretch a little. Cooking times will vary a little by how much food you have, so if you make half a head or more at a time, check the doneness and stir up the cabbage so any undercooked shreds are on top for additional microwave time.

• Head of red cabbage, rinsed, 2 outermost leaves peeled off and discarded, and cut in halves, you decide how much you want to chop for this recipe and wrap the rest tightly in plastic in the fridge for your next masterpiece.
• A spoonful or so of cider or red wine vinegar and/or squeeze of lemon juice, or just enough to turn all the sliced cabbage magenta
• A small drizzle of olive or salad oil, about 1 T

Flavorings for 1/4 head worth or so of salad (so scale up and adjust to taste)

• 1/2 t toasted sesame oil
• 1/2 t. dab of blackstrap molasses or a couple of pinches of sugar, brown or white
• 1-2 t low-sodium soy sauce
• small minced clove of garlic (or half a bigger clove)
• pinch of hot pepper flakes or a few drops sriracha to taste
• toasted peanuts and/or chopped scallion, optional

Slice the red cabbage into thin (quarter-inch) lengthwise wedges or crosswise shreds. Pile them on a microwaveable plate or bowl large enough to hold them and squeeze on some lemon juice and/or sprinkle on the vinegar, toss them to coat just so that all the purple starts turning brighter magenta. Drizzle on the olive or salad oil, toss again, then microwave uncovered 2-3 minutes (3-4 minutes if more than 1/4 head of cabbage), or until lightly cooked. Mix in everything else but the peanuts and scallions and toss, let sit a few minutes, taste and adjust, nuke 1-2 more minutes depending on your preferences for tender vs. chewy, and top with the peanuts and scallion as desired. Serve hot or cold.

For taste–I prefer mine balanced slightly toward the toasted sesame oil, with undertones from the garlic, vinegar, soy sauce and molasses and just a little latent heat from the chile flakes, but not overtly vinegary, sweet, salty or hot. Your mileage may vary; feel free.

This goes well with any proteins and other vegetables you’d stirfry, grill or dress with soy sauce-type dressings. Steamed or pan-browned tofu, pan-grilled tuna or salmon, chicken or seitan with bok choy, beef with broccoli, broccoli and ginger, etc. Toasted sesame seeds, sunflower seeds, walnuts or almonds would also work in place of peanuts. Thinly sliced raw or barely-nuked carrots too.

And if you run across some bargain-bin snow pea or sugarsnap pea pods, carrots of many colors, or any other vegetable you think goes, snag them, wash and trim them, nuke them very lightly and toss them in.

Be good, eat nice, and stay cool and colorful!

It’s been way too long

I have to apologize. In recent years, especially the last five or six, when daily outrage at the headlines suddenly became normal, to say nothing of the pandemic, I’ve been known to take a few months between posts, partly because in that environment I had doubts–how does food match up in importance with the current news cycle (or cyclone, your choice)? And I wasn’t feeling very inventive in the kitchen–it was just me and my husband at home, he’s not a foodie, and how often did I want to try and make a batch of something pretty, new or frankly experimental if I was going to be eating most of it on my own?

This year, it’s more personal. In the last year my husband and I have each lost a parent and several friends besides. I know that in any given year somebody’s going through what we have, and we’re just getting to the age where it’s our turn to deal with it, but it’s still been hard. So all in all, although I’ve had occasional bouts of inspiration over the last–can it really be 8 months? unfortunately–I haven’t really been thinking very creatively about food this year. I’ve mostly just been putting one foot in front of the other, learning how to deal with end-of-life care and all the official business mourners have to take care of, and being grateful for everyone in our family.

That said, I am also very grateful that people are still coming by and reading SlowFoodFast, and I hope if you’ve visited this blog while I was away, that you found something helpful, interesting or entertaining. Especially because I have some new ideas I want to share–things I had to bookmark and set aside until I could take the time to post, as well as a few new and possibly weird food experiments I’ve been trying out lately.

Quiche x Fillo = Yeah!

(…plus a few more cheap cheese tricks)

I had bought a packet of fillo dough a while back, in the thought that by now I’d have a couple of fun party-food ideas to suggest. But this week I’ve been feeling like I’d rather make and serve something nonsweet, nonfussy and not heavy–an easy main dish for summer, lighter and more serious at the same time, and something that could last more than one meal and reheat quickly.

This vegetable-filled quiche is a flexible dairy main dish with a Mediterranean vibe thanks to its fillo crust. It looks a little fancier than an ordinary quiche, but it’s not actually difficult to put together, and it’s also not a heart attack on a plate.

The only trick, other than needing to bake it in a conventional oven rather than attempting the microwave (so don’t do it during the heat of the day), is to control the temperature and moisture so you get the egg and cheese filling to cook through without letting the fillo casing scorch or, possibly worse, get soggy. It stores well in the fridge for next-day dinners, and you can reheat and recrisp individual pieces quickly in the toaster oven, especially if you microwave first for half a minute on an open plate just to warm them through, then slide onto foil and toast a few minutes at a baking temperature slightly below full-stun toasting so you don’t scorch the tops.

I’ve made two versions of this by winging it, essentially, and it’s worked nicely both times. The first was an open-faced spinach and ricotta fillo tart that went well at a Chanukah party back in December, and it led me to this second riff, a cauliflower-mushroom-smoked cheese filling, this time sandwiched between top and bottom fillo layers.

Before I get into the recipe and tips for working with fillo specifically, let’s talk a little about flexibility by highlighting one of my hobbies, getting cheap with cheese:

Persian-ish grill ideas for Purim

Microwave-to-toaster-oven version

Last year our synagogue signed up for a catered Persian grill dinner (served takeout-style for pickup) from a restaurant on the West Side of LA, and this year they’re doing it again from a restaurant with kosher meat options. Last year, we weren’t sure so we went with a vegetarian option that turned out to be a little bleak–just grilled but dry unsauced vegetables, including some very-middle-American-style broccoli and babycut carrots that looked like they’d just been thrown in with the more traditional eggplant, pepper, zucchini, onion and tomato. The trays were filled out with huge heaps of bright-yellow basmati rice and a little tub of fesenjan sauce–toasted ground walnuts cooked down with grated onion and pomegranate molasses. No actual protein, though, so I pan-browned triangles of tofu to go with it. It was still all pretty bland, though, except for the charred tomato and pasilla pepper and onion.

Even though we’re going to have a meat version tonight–presumably better, I hope!–before the Megilla reading, the story of Queen Esther is very specific about one of her virtues. Unlike all the other girls who were hauled up to Ahashverosh’s palace for a year of preparation for a beauty contest (only, as with most, without a desirable prize). Most of the contestants dined on all the delicacies of the palace kitchen, but Esther refused any of the expensive meats and ate chickpeas instead. She didn’t tell anyone she was Jewish, but she didn’t eat the meat, claiming she was in mourning. It may have been a factor in why she was chosen as queen–she wasn’t being a glutton while the getting was good.

In Esther’s time, Ahashverosh had allowed his wicked vizier Haman to convince him to send out a decree allowing anyone to attack the Jews. But once Esther exposed Haman’s plot and her own Jewishness, he couldn’t cancel his own decree, so he sent out a second decree allowing the Jews to arm themselves in their own defense.

The celebration of Purim, while joyous and relieved, maybe a little exaggerated, is always mixed with acknowledgement of poverty and violence around us; this year most notably caused by the horror Putin has committed in Ukraine. The parallels are pretty harsh and very timely; there are always people like Haman and Ahashverosh willing to do harm or make excuses. So I have mixed feelings about meat vs. vegetarian for Purim, and about celebration in the midst of and despite the everpresent harsh realities.

The best I can do is to say that yes, especially now, we need to commemorate and to celebrate the triumph of good over evil–but without losing perspective or forgetting. May we have more people like Esther and Mordechai–be people more like them, people who step up. And in the meantime, remember to give tzedakah and g’milut hasadim–not charity, but the justice of providing for those in need. This is the season for that too.

Back to food and cooking:

One thing I’ve been thinking about since last Purim is how to make a somewhat better-tasting vegetarian Persian grill-style platter at home. I did like the restaurant’s grilled vegetables, just not the broccoli and carrot bits that were completely out of place or the tofu I made as a last-ditch effort.

If you have a microwave and a toaster oven or a nonstick frying pan with a lid, you can do something good and vegetarian fairly quickly and get some of the vibe without a lot of work. And grilling will improve winter tomatoes, onions, zucchini, (full-size, sliced) carrots, cauliflower, whatever you have where you are.

You can make a tray of quick-grilled vegetables as a side dish, or you can take the long, stuffable peppers and put in rice-and-tomato, as for dolmas (stuffed grape leaves), grillable white cheese like panela or queso fresco plus a sprinkle of nigella seed or thyme and some minced onion, or my personal and higher-protein/flavor choice, lentil hashu as for stuffed baby eggplants and mehshi basal (stuffed onions), which are Syrian Jewish, but adaptable and delicious and not too far off. The lentil and rice stuffing is flavored with allspice and cinnamon and it grills up nicely, especially in a nonstick pan with a bit of olive oil to create a light, crispy, char on the surface. It also makes light, delicate felafel-like fritters.

Heartsick for Ukraine

Sorry–this is not about food, and only marginally about trying to ensure food aid. Links to a few key aid organizations are toward the bottom of the post.

I have not slept well this week; I keep getting up and checking the headlines in the New York Times and the Washington Post and AP and Reuters, hoping that Ukraine will turn for the better, that people are surviving and that the Russian military will realize that Putin has frankly lost it, stop obeying his orders and cease fire, for everyone’s sake. I keep seeing people crowded into the underground metro stations and wondering how the hell aid workers can get food to them.

President Zelensky, who looks so much like my dad as a young man and like my mother’s cousin and mine, is holding on, and he has inspired us in a way no one really expected. He’s doing much more than most people would try to do for his people and he’s gone from zero to 60 doing what Putin could not, would not, for his own people. That is obvious.

What is more obvious, no one outside Ukraine wanted to help last year because it would mean dipping a toe in the water of war that was already visibly massed at the border. They tried to tiptoe and appease. And like Chamberlain–and then Churchill–they woke up to the fact that you can’t appease a bully and expect it to work. Bombs rained down on London in response to their concessions. That and not bravery ahead of time is what turned Churchill’s approach. By then, the world was actually at war. Could it have been stopped short?

President Biden has said–and Boris Johnson has too–that we will not send American troops to help fight in Ukraine because it would tip us into World War III if we fought Russia directly. And they are right not to escalate tensions unnecessarily.

But this is not unnecessarily, and we could hardly be escalating anything, it’s already well past “escalating” when a madman has attacked his neighbors and nobody stopped him. For a year. With missiles and cluster bombs and now possibly vacuum bombs, and is threatening nuclear war for anyone who dares intercede. An ounce of prevention or in this case early and hard military response could be worth a thousand pounds of war. On the heels of a miserable pandemic, in which Americans are STILL dying at a rate of nearly 2000 a day, post-peak.

If Barack Obama, for whom I voted and whose aims I generally supported, had not let Putin cow him into keeping the US from interceding early and hard to stop the massacre Assad committed on his own country, over years, where might Europe be today? In better shape, with fewer tragedies and migrant deaths and much lower cost in terms of immigration, closed borders, abusiveness toward refugees, the perceived permission to hard-right bigots elsewhere, from Rump to Xi, to commit even further human rights abuses and rattle sabers at their pacifist neighbors. Russia itself would be in a lot better shape. All these things have cost the world a lot already and should be cause for shame.

Obama understandably did not want to push America into another adventurist war like the one Bush, Cheney, Rumsfeld and Rove lied their way into in Iraq and Afghanistan to our extreme cost. But somehow he could not distinguish between that and a genuine and legitimate cause for military intervention. He wanted to keep his hands clean, and he let himself be afraid of Putin–and of American political backlash. There was no way to be safe if we went in. So he made dignified-sounding speeches and made some economic sanctions and essentially sat on those clean hands, as have we all, in despair.

And here we are again, with few options other than donating aid to organizations like HIAS (hias.org) and the American Jewish Joint Distribution Committee (jdc.org) and the International Red Cross (icrc.org), and worrying for our relatives, Jewish and non-Jewish, and watching the headlines hour after hour. That is essential aid, it makes us feel less helpless, and it is worth reaching into our pockets for. But it is probably not enough given the viciousness of Putin’s attack.

Biden is going to give a State of the Union address tonight. What will he say? What will we do?

If Volodymyr Zelensky can pull together an organized and surprisingly effective defensive action with such scant starting material as he has and rally worldwide support, even for these few days, certainly the US can be doing a lot more. And we had better do it fast. It is time to get brave again.

AbFab Mousse au Chocolat: lighter, faster, and still incredibly rich

The Daring Duo–back and brasher than ever in an Alexis Bittar jewelry ad from a couple of years ago. I don’t remember which mag I tore it out of, but who cares? It’s Valentine’s Day, Sweetie, so bling it on!

Preface: Usually I’m at least a couple of days late discussing anything related to New Year’s, Valentine’s Day, or pretty much any celebration involving dessert. Partly because the January and February months–and into maybe April–are always the ones where people struggle to recover from the big food holidays. And obviously it’s been harder on most of us to feel buoyant, celebratory or romantic these past two years. But I worked really hard all last fall writing interviews and moderating high-profile author events for a book festival, then doing and redoing flights for my daughter, who graduated early but her travel program fell through at the last minute. This much later I’m still feeling pretty chewed up and in need of a reward… And my husband has a badly mis-scheduled board meeting tonight and thinks he shouldn’t be the first to bail.

So I don’t know about you, but I’ve decided I could use a kick right about now, something uplifting and energizing and frankly decadent, but without having to work hard now or pay the piper afterward. Something like all the Valentine’s Day-themed chocolate mousse recipes everyone’s starting to trot out in food media, only a lot faster, less bloated and more chocolate-powered, and–of course!–made mostly in the microwave. If I get heart palpitations I want it to be from exhilaration, not indigestion or overwork.

Even though it’s already 3:37 pm here and probably too late to help you much if you’re stuck on a Valentine’s Deadline on the east coast. Go with plain 5-minute ganache instead–and some champagne for tonight, and save this one for the weekend instead–if it’s the real deal, your romance or at least the shopping hijinks you want to get up to will still be there.

I actually came up with this recipe way back in August, as a distraction from my book festival duties, but really–who wants to be thinking about chocolate mousse in August? So I decided to save it for now, when it will do the most good. Or bad, because I’ve been good way too long. And then I came across not only Season 1 but also a book of the published original AbFab scripts. It was practically kismet, I’m telling you! So–pardon my excess while I find some bling to get into character...

Mousse au chocolat, Sweetie! It’s what microwaves are for!

THIS IS NOT your typical Meilleurs Oeuvriers de France high-concept mousse au chocolat. It’s not Hervé This, it’s not Pierre Hermé, it’s not Thomas Keller or Dominique Ancel. It’s not even the utter classic back-of-the-French-chocolate-bar-wrapper version that Dorie Greenspan quotes–and so, for that matter, does Alice Medrich. No name-dropping at all here (who, Moi?). Or at least no hyperlinks.

Just a tribute to a pair of troublemaking women who don’t cook at all, as far as I can tell, and a good thing too. But they aspire to everything this mousse is about–taste, time, fortune and fame, fashion superiority, basic naughtiness, and above all, a good time on a plate with no regrets the next morning.

So this is my take in honor of Absolutely Fabulous. It is very, VERY chocolate. And chic, despite my iffy photography and food styling abilities. And yet reasonably svelte. It will leave you quivering and swooning where you stand. This is what it’s all about, Sweetie.

Despite the fact that there’s no butter. No cream. And no crap. It’s not a heart attack in a tiny coupe (it only tastes like it, and maybe feels like it due to the high chocolate content). It’s not 450 calories and a day’s worth of saturated fat that goes right from your gallbladder to your hips, bypassing the heart as a lost cause.

You will not need to struggle into a larger pair of jeans [Season 1, Episode 2] after eating this, even if you manage to eat an entire quarter of it in one sitting without tottering to the couch and wishing you hadn’t and that you’d listened to me about Less being the New More.

This mousse au chocolat is so intense that even a spoonful or two is Almost a Religious Experience. At least if you’ve been fully vaccinated, you’ve been masking up (fashionably, as in, “LaCroix, Sweetie. La. Croix.“) instead of threatening your local chocolate purveyors and flight attendants, and thus your tastebuds still have their mojo. Because as everyone knows, breathing privileges and, just as important, flying privileges, are key to powershopping [Absolutely Special, aka AbFab in New York].

Once you recover from the chocolate rush, you will fan yourself, sip your bitter demitasse and your bottle of overpriced springwater, and leave the premises refreshed, overhyped and ready to shop for something sparkly as illustrated above–either completely garish, overpriced and pulled right from the runways with the tags still on…or, and we hope this is you, effortlessly elegant and sleek and elusively cool and yet still somehow totally rock ‘n’ roll, depending on whether you’re identifying with your inner Eddie or your inner Pats at the moment.

You will feel entitled, because the heady combination of making something like this mousse au chocolat mostly in the microwave, eating a petite portion in tiny refined bites and still being overwhelmed by the utter chocolatude of it all, without fearing the scale or the mirror the next morning, is the holy grail for those of us who worry secretly that we can’t really have it all.

Pardon me, I think Bvlgari is calling my name…

PS–EULA/legal disclaimer: the Management takes no responsibility for the shocking next-day surprise jewelry / footwear / custom marble courtyard sculpture bills you may have racked up in the heat of the moment. Or the return shipping and restock fees thereof.

PPS~~ ~~ THE ACTUAL FINE PRINT, ahem! ~~ ~~

Now…I did claim in the headline that this recipe is “faster” as well as lighter. And that’s…almost true. The key question is, compared to what? Because however you make chocolate mousse, you will have to give it several hours and preferably overnight in the fridge to set up properly. The only ones that set up in much less time contain either enough hard fats to solidify in an hour or so, which they will also do to your arteries, or else enough questionable fillers and thickeners to turn what should be an ethereal chocolate experience into dull, heavy American commercial chocolate pudding.

Part of the intrigue of chocolate mousse is the depth of flavor, but the other part is the texture. Getting it right is a little, though only a little, tricky to achieve with a significantly lighter reduced-fat, reduced-waistline version like this one.

My first attempt was almost right, and definitely fast, and really, really, really–I thought it would rock the first time out of the gate. It almost did. And of course I wish it had, because it would have been completely revolutionary.

I started with microwave ganache, amped up with cocoa powder to sub in for some of the bar chocolate–easy enough. Then I pivoted to microwave custard, easy and superfast, by dropping the egg yolks into the hot ganache and whisking and renuking immediately. So far, so good–thick, rich, smelling beautiful, and with the heat you’re reasonably well covered on the matter of egg safety. Do the same by folding in the beaten egg whites into the hot custard, I thought, waiting a minute and then rapid-cooling in an ice bath, and maybe you don’t have to use prepasteurized egg whites, which are more expensive, or else make a Swiss meringue. About five minutes from start to finish, no chaser, no waste, would be–Absolutely Fabulous. Wouldn’t it? and only two bowls plus the ice bath and a whisk.

I even went so far as to grate a bit of organic orange peel into the egg whites at the last. The dream and the taste–both divine.

The setup in the fridge wasn’t quite there, though, even the next day. It came out a little looser than I wanted, and the ethereal quality of chocolate mousse went slightly missing. Folding stiff egg whites into freshly hot custard had probably killed any risk of salmonella, but it also deflated the structure considerably after a while. It wasn’t completely stable in the fridge–so I froze it for a gelato, which was pretty good, actually, but it wasn’t mousse.

My second try was fussier–I did the near-Swiss meringue method Alice Medrich has used for pasteurizing egg whites, beating them with a spoonful of water and an extra tablespoon of sugar in a bowl over a skillet of simmering water to sterilize and stabilize them, and I also added a spoonful of cornstarch to the chocolate mixture–I know! not traditional!–but I had to test and find out. Would it work or would it end up tasting and textured like chocolate pudding?

This time the mousse stayed puffed beyond a doubt, and the next morning it had firmed up just enough to scoop and stay scooped. It was definitely chocolate mousse, though, not chocolate pudding–the bit of cornstarch hadn’t overdone it. A small test sample–the size of an egg, or maybe something you’d serve in shotglasses at a buffet–was really enough, too. Every millimeter of it was so intensely chocolate that it actually took me a few minutes to finish it in tiny, gelato spoon-style tastes, and I wasn’t automatically reaching for more. A little, or at least a little at a time, goes a very long way here–good news on the svelte front–and makes a big impression in a small cup, especially at the end of a meal.

Happy 2022 from Pasadena!

The Rose Parade is something I’ve looked forward to seeing every year since I moved to Pasadena. Before we bought a house, we actually lived half a block from the parade route, so we could swing down to the street to see the floats and the marching bands with our neighbors, coffee mugs in hand and our kid still young enough to ride on our shoulders. Good times! I still miss that, even though I’m incredibly proud that she’s just graduated early from university. Something to celebrate, even though it’s shaping up to be another touch-and-go winter. We have a chance to turn things around and do better if we only will.

This year’s parade is the first since the pandemic began, and the weather turned sunny after a week of unusually hard rains. A good sign, generally. This one is not the best I ever saw (that would be the year our Jet Propulsion Lab had its own towering, animated “Rocketman” float à la Elton John; I think that year also featured a band costumed as Star Wars stormtroopers, but I’d have to dig back through my old photos to be sure). I haven’t gotten down to Colorado Boulevard to see things in person this time; maybe tomorrow I’ll walk down to the float display at Victory Park if it’s not too crowded for safety. But the point is this parade still brings a little hope. In the meantime, these pictures are just stills I snipped from KTLA-5‘s coverage, which you can see in its entirety at ktla.com or on its YouTube channel. Because there are still things I heartily approve:

AIDS Foundation float “Vaccinate Our World”, credit for this and all following parade stills: KTLA-5

First, speaking of Elton, obviously, is the AIDS Foundation’s new emphasis on vaccinating the world against COVID-19 and getting vaccines to less-wealthy nations to end this thing. Two years into it, already, do we really want to see out a third full year? No. A message from a group that reminds us just how long pandemic threats can stick around if they’re politicized, profiteered and mismanaged to the degree this one has been.

But lip service and floats are not enough.

It would have been nice if more of the crowd and float attendees had also been wearing masks, but at least the parade’s Rose Court all were.

Third, entertainment. Grand Marshal LeVar Burton, looking sharp, and (temporarily) unmasked singer Dionne Warwick waving from the Masked Singer float. The two of them were a more welcome sight to me than any of the featured singing acts, all of whom seemed a bit weak on both amperes and content by comparison to the legends.

The marching bands, on the other hand, were pretty good–two of them, count ’em, two, played slightly starched 4:4 marching-band arrangements of Journey’s “Don’t Stop Believing,” but another one delivered more swing by breaking into song in the middle of Margaret Cobb and Bruce Channel’s “Hey Baby, Will You Be My Girl,” and for one smalltown band, the whole thing was even more of an adventure–about 75% of its members had never flown before they came here.

There was also baton-twirling involved; it’s becoming a lost art except at PCC, whose campus is right on the parade route and whose band and dancers always deliver. Oh–and in a few outposts in Ohio; one of their drum majors did a nifty and improbable baton throw through his legs.

Irish Soda Bread, Lighter on the Soda

Irish soda bread has a reputation—it’s quick and easy and yet rustic, but can be a bit rough on your stomach and supposedly goes heavy and rocklike within a day. Most people blame the whole wheat or the lack of yeast. I blame the soda.

This kind of quick bread was probably intended to be baked alongside the supper roast or casserole and eaten up at that meal—the loaves aren’t huge and there would probably be no leftovers to speak of. Time is of the essence when you’re making dinner for a hungry working family, and typical recipes I find call for a large tablespoon or more of baking soda for only two or three cups of flour. Then they cover the metallic/salt/soap flavor of the bicarbonate with extra spoonfuls of salt. The result is a high-sodium loaf that’s bound to irritate your stomach lining somewhat, even while fresh, and then will almost certainly end up pretty dry and hard, like the stereotypical box-mix Passover cakes, if you let it sit out at all.

I’m actually not sure whether the baking soda levels in today’s recipes are the same as or more exaggerated than classic ones. But considering some of the vintage recipes for similar quick breads, muffins, scones etc., from the 1930s or so, I suspect that the cheapness and novelty of baking soda and baking powder, which could replace eggs as well as yeast, made some of the recipe developers of the day more enthusiastic than they needed to be. Except, of course, if they were developing recipes for Arm&Hammer, Calumet or other brands…

Does it really need all that chemical leavening just to rise? As with tea breads, scones, and quick-mix oil- or applesauce-based cake layers, I find you can get away with a lot less than most recipes call for.  Half a teaspoon of baking soda is enough for two cups (8 oz. or 240 g by weight) of flour and the rise is just fine as long as you don’t wait around before sticking the mixed dough in the oven, and you have included an acidic ingredient like yogurt, buttermilk or vinegar to activate it. Then you don’t have to compensate the taste with excess salt either. The acidic ingredients and any dairy will tenderize the crumb as well.

In any case, these problems are easy to solve without doing your head in or spending a lot of cash on specific ingredients, because the beauty of Irish soda bread is its great adaptability to what you have on hand.

This is the adaptation I made a few times in March and April of 2020, when yeast was suddenly, inexplicably, sold out in the grocery stores, eggs were scarce and flour was being snatched off the shelves too.

Oy, Chanukah, Already!

Artichoke and olive spanakopita tastes authentic even though it’s
completely nondairy. The party round is pretty quick to put together, too.

Haven’t we just finished one holiday? Are we really ready to rummage through the candles and see if we have enough for tomorrow night? Do I really want to cook or fry anything at all today or tomorrow? I mean, I just got my booster shot and it’s starting to hit home. So I’m feeling a bit wrung out. But yes.

If you’re kind of in the same boat, and you’re also trying to behave a little–not too much–just enough so you won’t be size-challenged for party clothes by the time we hit New Year’s… well, I hear you. My husband and I are actually going to a potluck party for the first night of Chanukah tomorrow, and I’m making spanakopita again–why? because it’s got olive oil but not a ton, I’ve done it a number of times for Chanukah parties in the past several years and now I have it on the brain as Chanukah food. And it tastes good and looks like party food, but it’s a lot easier and quicker than you’d think, and folding fillo is a bit like origami or paper airplanes, which is always fun. And you can do the spinach in the microwave…so. Beats standing over a pan of oil frying latkes while everyone gets impatient–we’ll let our friends do that part since they said they would. And someone else promised a salad, so I’m happy.

If I can just pick my wilting carcass up tomorrow and put it together, and then remember where we put the candles from last year and my much-neglected party clothes (of course, here in California that could just mean a clean pair of jeans, I’d go for that) we can get it to our friends’ and have an actual celebration without too much trouble. Maybe.

I just have to convince myself. I have to convince my husband. Most of all I have to convince my cat that yes, I’m going to bed early tonight and that does not mean she should start poking her nose under my chin and trying to dislodge me just so I’ll pay attention. I used to have a similar problem with my kid, but now she’s grown up, mostly…

So–for anyone who needs a few mostly-fresh Chanukah ideas using olive oil–not too stodgy, and not too oily either–here’s the quick list to date, with a few fractured fairytales mixed in (I was always a fan of Rocky & Bullwinkle on Saturday mornings as a kid, and I just haven’t forgiven Robert deNiro and co. yet for the live-action dud).

But first, a (short, considering it’s me) health hock from your slightly wiped-out host:

—–HOCK—–

Give yourself the immense benefit of living! Get your COVID vaccines and/or boosters asap! A day or so of feeling schvach after getting your shot is nothing compared to being hospitalized or, worse, ending up with a long, hard aftermath that can include Type 1 diabetes, which is on the rise because of the huge spread of this virus. Type 2 may be caused by being a bit zaftig, but Type 1 is an autoimmune reaction to viral infection, and it’s for life. And no we didn’t know that either until my daughter was diagnosed in the wake of H1N1 bird flu 11 years ago. So take it from me, because I’m telling you you DO NOT WANT to try and “immunize” yourself or your kids by catching COVID or any other virus. Step up and get your shots and keep getting them as needed until this is actually over.

—-End hock—-

…and now, the ever-expanding Chanukah food list, which unlike all the newspaper food sections, Kosher.com and so on, actually features a few fresh vegetables here and there. Plus, as promised, a few geschichtes and bubbe meises…

OK, Fried PLUS Dairy for Chanukah

Posted on December 17, 2014 by DebbieN | Edit

Well…I figured out something quick to fry for the first night of Chanukah: slices of panela cheese, a white rubbery fresh cheese that’s almost exactly like halloumi. Only it’s Mexican rather than Greek, so it’s locally abundant.

Lightening up for Hanukkah (aka Chanukah)

Posted on December 16, 2014 by DebbieN | Edit

Tonight’s the first night of Chanukah, and not only haven’t I thought of presents, I haven’t thought of dinner. Here are links to Chanukah-worthy dishes from my previous posts.

Rugelach and the Chanukah Fairy

Posted on December 23, 2012 by DebbieN | Edit

You may be asking what on earth rugelach have to do with Chanukah. However, let me warn you, they’re entirely relevant to the holiday treats vs. self-control dilemma. Old-style rugelach are designed to prevent both tameness and pigging out.

Microwave Tricks: (Passover Haste and) Fresh Apple Sauce (which was actually from last Chanukah and very handy…)

Posted on March 26, 2021 by DebbieN | Edit

(What? no pictures of apples? How could this be?!! Somehow I’ve never taken any during Passover–maybe Tuesday…) I know, I know, it’s already Friday afternoon, Passover starts tomorrow night after sundown, and have I cleaned out my fridge? Have I found the all-important kosher-enough-for-me chocolate and kosher-enough-for-anyone cocoa powder? Um…no. I did just bake the […]

Artichoke-olive spanakopita for a party crowd (the big round pan done easily, vegan without seeming vegan, and taka with a fancy slideshow and everything)

Posted on January 2, 2015 by DebbieN | Edit

If you can’t have feta cheese in your spanakopita, this is definitely a good way to go. And making a big festive round tray is a lot easier than it looks. So I’ve put in a slideshow demonstration along with the recipe.

Cauliflower pakoras, lightened up (oh, yeah)

Posted on December 30, 2017 by DebbieN | Edit

By the time I was ready to start lighting candles and sing I had made two extra credit (but simple) sauces for the cauliflower pakoras. I was in the groove and feeling righteous and like I could do no wrong because the pakoras were smelling good. There has to be some time when it’s fun to be in the kitchen, right?

How to fly with a pie (for the 10-minute microwave-to-pan-browned brussels sprouts with hazelnuts recipe)

Posted on December 7, 2015 by DebbieN | Edit

How to fly with a pie…In which yours truly finds herself invited to a magazine-worthy Sonoma idyll for Thanksgiving and feels totally outclassed. Luckily Thanksgiving is about cooking together as much as eating, and we all got down to both pretty handily. I even got the honors of being up to my elbow prepping the turkey (the food glam magazines somehow never show that part; too much like an episode of “ER”).

More things to fry in olive oil (because)

Posted on December 3, 2010 by DebbieN | Edit

Even with mechanical assistance in the form of a food processor, I’m a one-latke-night-per-year-is-enough kind of person. I want something other than potatoes at Hanukkah if I’m going to be frying stuff in more than a spoonful or so of olive oil. Therefore I look for other maybe less starchy and more flavorful (one can always hope) things to fry.

And also….

Last-minute Thanksgiving 2021

Good reasonably fast bread makes for a better cheese plate–so I tell myself…

I’m always, always late to the table, I know it. Yes, it is sort of too late to do much more than give you the link to my Slow Food Fast Thanksgiving guide from a few years ago plus the few new ones from last year, and recommend “Thanksgiving” in the search box if you’re stuck for microwaveable but good ideas.

Last year was the first on-our-own-but-Zooming-it Thanksgiving and this is our second, and Chanukah starts Sunday evening. Maybe I’ll have something exciting and original by then.

Despite all that, I do have a few things I’ve been meaning to share but haven’t had time to post. The past few months seem to have sped up on me because my daughter’s aiming to graduate early this year, and because I’ve been helping host the still mostly-online Jewish Book Festival for our region and that means interviewing authors–some really eminent ones–for our local Federation magazine and moderating online for two of the events. So my “skill set,” both technical and staging, has had to rev up in a big way…

But Thanksgiving…I am doing most or at least some of the same menu I put together for “just us” last year–artichokes in the microwave, wild rice pilaf, salmon, broccoli, salad, pumpkin pie, cranberry sauce, and maybe some mushroom caps. All of it is good and almost all, everything but the salad, is microwaveable at least for part of it, and there will be good leftovers for lunch this weekend. So–not much new.

The things I did last year that I didn’t manage to post include a relatively quick whole wheat olive-rosemary faux-sourdough bread, which came out really well and I’m doing again, and the cheese plate à deux that manages to be interesting without breaking the bank…

These things may not come in time for today, depending where you are and how impatient or well-stocked, but they could come in handy in the next few weeks.

Whole wheat rapid faux sourdough with mix-ins

I usually keep a bowl of dough in the fridge for things like pita and calzone and it lasts me about a week. I’ve done proper sourdough rye and kornbroyt with medium success, and a yogurt-based 3-hour “faux” sourdough that wasn’t too bad, but lately I’ve decided that I can get a decent mildly sourdough flavor simpler and nondairy by just stirring a capful of apple cider vinegar into the flour as I’m making a regular yeast dough.

For this whole wheat bread, I’m doing a smaller ball of dough than my usual salad bowl worth–I want it quicker and it’s really just for this, so. I took a chunk of the regular dough since I had some in the fridge, maybe a heaping tablespoon or so, softened and pulled it apart with a fork in half a cup of warm water, sprinkled on about a cup each of whole wheat and regular bread/AP flour, less than half a teaspoon of salt, and a small capful of cider vinegar, and started stirring. I heated up another half a coffee mug of water a few seconds in the microwave, just to “finger-warm,” and added just enough to the bowl to get it to make a reasonable dough, kneaded it until smooth, drizzled on olive oil, covered the bowl and set it in a colander over a stockpot filled with hot tap water–and put a lid over it to shut out light. Hopefully it’s rising as we speak.

Olive rosemary bread in progress, as of Thanksgiving 2020–from the outcome, I’d say at least double the olives and throw in some chopped walnuts as well to get a more generous, nicer-looking distribution.

You can go a couple of different ways with mix-ins. Last year I chopped some Greek olives and minced a sprig or two of rosemary from the bush in the backyard, and when the dough was risen, I rolled it out into a rectangle and sprinkled everything on, rolled it up, let it rise again covered for 40 minutes or so while I heated the oven to 420F, and then threw a mugful of water into the oven and baked the bread for about an hour–it was a bigger loaf than I’m doing today, so I expect this one to take less time.

This year I’ll probably do the same but throw in a few chopped walnuts and maybe hot-soaked raisins as well. You could do raisins instead of olives if you prefer, nuts or no nuts, or just rosemary and thyme or sage if you want an herb bread.

Cheese plate with slight microwave assist (because, of course…)

The Ralph’s/Kroger in my neighborhood put in a fancy cheese counter two years ago, trying to rival Whole Foods and more or less doing a decent job of it. The Ralph’s cheeses are all stocked by Murray’s, which is headquartered in (I think?) the Hudson Valley in New York.

Now, that of course doesn’t sound incredibly affordable and the regular prices aren’t terrible but they’re still $10-25 a pound, which is a lot. However, the cheese counter always has a few “under $5” baskets out to attract those of us who don’t have champagne budgets or big parties to stock but are still sort of cheese freakish.

$20 cheese plate! Notes: 1. The Stepladder Creamery wedge, at $7, is the most expensive one here and full price; it’s still relatively inexpensive, wonderful and flavorful even in slivers, and produced by the dairy where my niece is a goat herd manager up near San Simeon. The other wedges are all over 5 ounces–the Ralph’s/Kroger/Murray’s Cheeses goat cheddar with vegetarian rennet at the lower left, contrary to what the upside down label says, is actually over 9 ounces, not the “0.22 lb” (3.5 oz) on the label. The full prices for the other two from Trader Joe’s: 3.60 for 5 ounces of stilton; 4.66 for 8 ounces of camembert, both vegetarian rennet.

And sometimes they’re actually big wedges, 6-8 ounces, that are nearing their sell-by date, or maybe they’re just not moving, so they discount and you can get a major bargain on things like Humboldt Fog or Cambozola, a stilton, or an aged goatsmilk cheddar or asiago-style cheese like Ewephoria. (Of course, occasionally you can find seriously discounted Limburger going for 75 cents a tightly-wrapped chunk, because they really, really want you to take it off their hands).