Red Lentil and Vegetable Curry Stew

A friend of ours lost her husband on Friday. I spent most of Mother's Day weekend in a haze of disbelief. Living our day to day lives, with our overwhelmingly hectic schedules, we easily forget how fragile life is; how what should be our allotted time here isn't exactly guaranteed. After hearing the news, I desperately felt the need to latch on to my family and never let them go. If I could somehow mange to not part with them ever, then I could keep them both safe and out of harm's way always. Everything would be Ok as long as I held on tight for dear life. In the days since, I've slowly been stepping back, remembering that the beauty of now must always overpower the worry of what might be. A part of me is looking forward to being distracted by the day to day again. Not because I take this life for granted, but because I know that the distraction means that the hurt has been lifted from our hearts and that we are in the process of healing. I look forward to my friend and her young son finding the distraction, too. 

I wasn't going to post this week, but I am a firm believer that food helps to heal even the most shattered of hearts. Of course, a pot of soup won't erase the tremendous void we feel when we lose the ones we love the most, but keeping ourselves nourished is important in fighting the uphill battle that is loss. Food helps bring us closer to others when they or we need it the most, and it is usually eternally tied to some of our fondest memories. Food is one of the few things we all share that aides us to persevere in more ways than one.

Red Lentil and Vegetable Curry Stew

1 large shallot, chopped

2 carrots, chopped

1 c. of sliced cremini mushrooms

2 cloves of garlic, sliced or minced

1 tsp. of curry powder

1 c. of red lentils

1 1/2 c. of chopped potatoes (any variety) 

1/2 c. of strained tomatoes

7 c. of chicken or veggie broth

small bunch of whole cilantro stems

2 large handfuls of baby spinach, chopped

olive oil

salt + pepper

Sauté your shallot, carrots, and mushrooms in some oil until they just start to caramelize. Add the garlic and curry powder and cook for another minute. Pour in the broth, along with the lentils, potatoes, strained tomatoes, and cilantro stems. Bring to a boil and then lower to a simmer, partially covered. Stir occasionally until the lentils are soft and cooked through (roughly 30-40 minutes). Remove and discard your cilantro stems. Add your chopped spinach and continue simmering until the spinach is wilted (roughly 3-5 minutes). Season to taste and serve. 

Serves 4-6

Chorizo, Broccoli + Chèvre Chowder

After 4 1/2 years of living in the Bay Area, I've learned that traditional weather patterns and seasons mean absolutely nothing here. Having moved up from LA, where really only summer and fall exist, I was excited to have months upon months of cold and foggy mornings that led into rainy and stormy afternoons. This year however, winter seemed to skip Northern California entirely. As the rest of the country suffered through the polar vortex, we were spending our days in short-sleeved shirts, dying for even just a few droplets of precipitation. By February, my skin was so scaly that I was sure I had morphed into a reptile. We waited and waited, and tried to stay optimistic, but nothing came. When the asparagus and strawberries started popping up at markets months before they were due, my heart sank for my beloved home state. 

And then somehwere in the middle of March, the rain finally came. For two weeks it felt as if buckets were being poured from the sky. We spent most of those days inside, gazing out our windows in amazement. It wasn't enough to repair the damage that had already been done, but it was something and it felt like not all hope had been lost. It rained again a teensy bit earlier in the week, and not knowing if this could possibly be the last of it, I figured I'd make some chowder before summer's official arrival. Chowder and rain are as good a match as peanut butter and jelly; it really doesn't get much better.

Maybe it's because I grew up eating the stuff, but man do I have a special place in my heart (or, stomach) for Mexican chorizo. Before this post a few years back, the purist in me had never even thought to use it in anything other than refried beans or scrambled eggs. That one little mistake opened me up to a whole new world of possibilities. Mexican chorizo is great for so much more than just beans and eggs! If you live in Oakland and you've been here, then you know that the stuff was practically MADE for a big old pot of mac n' cheese. I've been on a mission to incorporate it in a variety of recipes ever since. And in this batch of chowder, it most definitely did not disappoint. 

Chorizo, Broccoli + Chèvre Chowder

1/2 lb. of quality ground Mexican Chorizo

1 large shallot, chopped

2 large cloves of garlic, chopped

6 broccolini stalks, chopped (you can use regular broccoli, this is just what I had on hand)

2 large red potatoes, chopped

4 c. of chicken stock

1/2 c. of heavy cream

2-3 tbsp. of crumbled Chèvre (depending on how goat-y you want it, you can always add more)

2 tbsp. of chopped Italian parsley

Olive Oil 

Salt + Pepper

Brown your chorizo in a small amount of Olive Oil (chorizo is quite fatty, so you don't need to add too much oil). Once it's cooked, remove the meat from the pot, reserving the oil. Sauté your shallot, garlic and broccolini in the reserved oil on medium-low heat until the veg starts to caramelize a bit. Add your stock and potatoes, and simmer until both the potatoes and broccolini are fork tender. Make sure not to take this step too far because overcooked broccoli is disgusting. Take half of your soup and puree it in a food processor. Add the pureed half back to your pot and mix both batches together. Of course, if you like a smoother chowder, you can puree all of the soup. Add the chorizo back to the pot, along with the chopped parsley and heavy cream. Finish it off with your chèvre, giving it a slight stir. Season to taste.

Quick note: Traditionally, a roux is used to thicken chowders. That could certainly be done with this soup and would in no way impair it, but I find that potatoes are starchy enough to do the trick. 

Roasted Whole Grain Mustard Potato Salad

I'm rolling my eyes at myself as I type this, but we've become a [mostly] gluten-free household. Joe and I have both suspected for a while that he might have some sort of gluten intolerance, so he decided to bite the bullet and give it up completely a couple weeks ago. The difference has been so astonishing, that even I noticed it in him the very next day. He's clear headed, bursting with energy, and his mood has improved drastically. Obviously, as a result, mine has improved drastically as well. This has not been an easy transition seeing as we ate more pizza than any family I've ever known, but the pros are far outweighing the cons, so it would be worth our while to stick this one out. And if I'm being completely candid here, Cheech and I will occasionally sneak a morning bun into our day while he's at work so as not to torture his poor bread-less heart. 

Needless to say, our diet has been turned inside out and upside down. We did a market run the day after he made the switch while Cheech was at school, and it was nice to really pay attention to what we were buying without having a toddler screaming at us for more blackberries. This is a whole new way of cooking for me, which I'm taking on as a welcome challenge (please, I'd love to hear any and all suggestions/ideas/links/blogs/etc). Like I mentioned, the kid and I are still on the gluten train, so this is NOT a gluten-free blog. But, there will be lots of gluten-free business going on for sure. 

Cooking gluten-free food for a man who is not fond of rice, polenta, and most legumes has been a touch daunting. I still make those things from time to time in hopes that he'll come around, and also because I refuse to become a short order cook in this house. As far as I'm concerned, my family has three options when it comes to our meals: 1. They eat the dish I've prepared for them. 2. They make their own food. 3. They don't eat at all. Still, I do make more of an effort to make meals that I'm fairly confident we'll all enjoy. And man, if you don't enjoy potatoes, there's something seriously wrong with you. 

This potato salad is a slightly altered version of a French-style potato salad I used to make when I ran my own mini catering business out of my tiny apartment in LA (remember those days, K?). With the old version, I would simply boil the potatoes. I discovered though, that roasting them and throwing in some caramelized onions and garlic is such a lovely compliment to a good mustard's bite. I'm pretty sure I'll be making this version from here on out.

Roasted Whole Grain Mustard Potato Salad

2 lb. of fingerling potatoes (use any variety you'd like), chopped into 1/4 in. thick rounds

1 large shallot, sliced

1 large garlic clove, sliced

olive oil

1 tbsp. of good quality whole grain mustard (more if you really like mustard)

2 tbsp. of fresh chopped herbs (use whatever you have available/I used oregano, rosemary, and chives)

salt + pepper

Season your potato rounds and roast them until they turn golden and their skins become crispy. I put mine in the oven at 400º for about 20 minutes. Meanwhile, slowly caramelize your sliced shallot and garlic in a little bit of oil on medium-low heat. Once the potatoes and shallot mixture are done, toss them together with the mustard, half of the chopped herbs, and salt & pepper to taste. Garnish with remaining chopped herbs and serve warm, or at room temperature. Serves 4-6.