Blueberry Mojito

We were strolling through our local farmer's market on a beautiful Sunday morning--Heather with her parasol and I with my handsome vest and pocket square that I purchased that very morning from a shrewd young haberdasher--when we saw a carton of blueberries and dared to dream. Four dollars a pint?  Why that's nary more than a tuppence. "Will, don't you have a fancy muddler at home?" says my lovely wife. "Why yes I believe I do." We bought the blueberries and proceeded home to look for ways I could turn it into something delicious.

Scouring the internet for ideas, I arrived upon one for a Blueberry Ginger Mojito Pitchers recipe. It uses vodka instead of rum. On one hand, I like rum. It can be very refreshing as I have proven in my last few posts. On the other hand, I was beginning to run out of rum. I had a lot of vodka that was nice and cold from being in the freezer.

Blueberry Ginger Mojito Pitchers

adapted from foodnetwork.com

-Ingredients-

For the Ginger simple syrup:

-1/4 cup grated fresh ginger

-1 cup granulated sugar

-1 cup cold water

For the Mojito

-1 cup fresh blueberries

-1 lime, cut into wedges

-20-24 fresh mint leaves

-4 oz. ginger simple syrup

-4 oz. vodka

-5 oz. club soda

-Ice cubes

-Blueberries, for garnish

-Mint leaves, for garnish

-Directions-

For the ginger simple syrup:

Peel and grate the ginger and add it, together with the sugar and cold water, to a saucepan. Bring it to a boil and stir until the sugar dissolves. Cover and let steep for 15 minutes. Strain and cool in the refrigerator when done.

For the Mojito:

Add the blueberries, lime wedges and fresh mint leaves to the glass (or pitcher). Muddle with a wooden spoon so the blueberries are broken and the mint and lime release their juices and flavor. If assembling pitchers you can cover them at this stage and leave in the refrigerator until ready to serve.

When ready to serve, add the simple syrup, vodka and top off with club soda. Give it a quick stir and then pour into glasses with ice cubes. Garnish with a handful of fresh blueberries and a sprig of mint.

The recipe outlined below is for 2 tall glasses, but you can use the ratio to make pitchers (depending on how big your pitcher is, double or quadruple the recipe).

Combine the blueberries, mint leaves and lime wedges in the pitcher and muddle it in there with the back of a wooden spoon (or muddler). When you are ready to serve add vodka, ginger simple syrup and club soda. Stir and pour into glasses with a couple of ice cubes. Garnish each glass with some fresh blueberries and a sprig of fresh mint.

I tried making the first batch in a pitcher. I thought it worked out really well, but just for kicks I thought I would try to make it in the glass a few days later. As I suspected, the version made in the glass was a little fizzier that the pitcher version, ostensibly because it hadn't been jostled as much.

The ginger was something I hadn't considered adding to the cocktail, but once I tried it, I wondered why it hadn't occurred to me. It added a subtle burn to the flavor profile and a complexity to the drink throughout. It was a little more work to make the ginger syrup, but it paid off.

This drink goes to show you that vodka does not need to be banished to the winter months. It can--and indeed should--be enjoyed throughout the calendar year.

Brace Yourselves for the Hurricane

Up next in this series of dark rum drinks is something called a Hurricane. This is another recipe taken from the annals of Pennsylvania's Wine and Spirits Quarterly. I was intrigued by their section on dark rum and this recipe caught my eye because it looked fun and summery and it incorporates three different kind of rum: namely light rum, dark rum, and 151 proof rum.

I already had all the ingredients on hand with the exception of 151 proof rum. I don't often find myself needing such strong hooch on hand. So a quick trip to the local liquor store for a small bottle was in order. If I don't drink all of it, I can use the remainder to clean my floor. I don't own hurricane glasses so I had to improvise by using pint glasses that I typically use for beer.

Hurricane

adapted from Wine and Spirits Quarterly

-2 oz. light rum

-1 oz. dark rum

-4 oz. pineapple juice

-dash grenadine

-1/2 oz. 151 rum

Shake rums, pineapple juice and grenadine together over ice. Pour into a glass. Float 151 on top.

(As a fun side note, in the photos of the rum in my last three blog posts, you can see the level of rum steadily go down. It's sort of like a flip book of drinking.)

The big glasses definitely came in handy. The recipe calls for a fair amount of volume when ice is taken into account. As least 16 oz. I'd say. Overall, the drink was nice. The 151 didn't overpower the drink. I think it served to intensify the flavors of the other two rums. It gave them a chance to hold their own with the likes of all that fruit juice. If I'm going to pay for decent rum, I at least want to taste it. I'm not exactly sure why it was necessary to float the 151 on top of the drink. One normally does that for presentation, but the color of the rum doesn't differ drastically from the color of the drink. I'll have to play around with it some more.

I've never purchased a bottle of 151 proof rum before and I didn't realize that there's a flammability warning that reads: "Do not use this product for flaming dishes or drinks. All 151 proof rum may flare up and continue to burn when ignited, possibly with an invisible flame. Do not pour directly from bottle near the flame or intense heat. Use caution." I love it when something you intend to ingest carries the same warning that paint thinner might have. But it does give one the feeling of living dangerously...even if only a half an ounce is used.

I would make this drink again. I probably will make this drink again before the summer's over. I have to use that 151 again somehow. It's another arrow in my quiver of drinks I can use to battle this harsh summer heat. And I know I'm going to need all the help I can get; we're not even halfway through August yet. Arrgh.

Update: We finally tried the brandied cherries from a month and a half ago. The perfect drink for the occasion--I thought-- was a manhattan. I fashioned one for myself and one for Heather before we went to dinner on Sunday. I thought they added a nice syrupy richness to the drink. Heather speculated that perhaps when we become experts at canning one day, we should find a recipe that involves cooking the cherries and canning them with the brandy/sugar solution. The ones that we have at bars tend to have a more caramelized texture to them. But I would definitely recommend this recipe to someone who doesn't want to involve a stove.

Grilled Ratatouille Salad

"I think I bought too many vegetables," I said the other night, staring at a counter full of eggplant, peppers, zucchini, squash, and onion. 

"Well how many is the recipe for?" my husband asked, looking a bit daunted himself. 

"Two."

"I guess it should be alright then."

"Um...."

"What?"

"I added things," I admitted, as I grabbed my knife.

This vegetable thing might be getting out of hand. The weight loss thing is going pretty well (134.9 as of Sunday morning, thank you very much) but the quest as well as the onslaught of seasonal vegetables has turned me into, well I'd say a temporary vegetarian but the NY Times might sue me. And it's not really true either, I had a hot dog at Water Taxi Beach the other day and I'm sure I'm pretty sure a turkey sub made it into my lunch rotation this week. Hey I work in Midtown, what do you want from me? As far as cooking though, I haven't brought so much as a chicken breast into my apartment in two weeks.

The sale at Whole Foods read like the ingredient list for Ratatouille, a dish that roughly translates into "pile of late summer vegetables." There are chefs like Julia Child who insist you saute and layer each vegetable. Then there are radicals like the rat in the movie, making some crazy dish that wows the critics. The typical French stew seemed kind of heavy for the hot weather though, so I did some research and  found a recipe that called for grilling the vegetables, but it didn't include squash, which I consider a ratatouille staple, and while it called for red pepper I had a green one just sitting in my fridge... so I used both.

Grilled Ratatouille Salad with Feta Cheese

Adapted from Bon Appetit

Ingredients:

- 1 12-14 oz eggplant, cut into 1/2 inch thick rounds

- 1 zucchini, quartered lengthwise

- 1 yellow squash

- 1 red bell pepper, cut lengthwise into 6 strips

- 1 green bell pepper, cut lengthwise into 6 strips

- 1 medium onion, cut into 1/2 inch thick rounds

- 3 tablespoons olive oil

- 2 to 3 teaspoons balsamic vinegar

- 2/3 cup crumbled feta cheese

Directions:

Place grill pan over medium heat. Place vegetables on a baking sheet. Drizzle with olive oil and sprinkle with salt and pepper, turn to coat. Grill vegetables until tender and tinged brown, turning frequently, about 6 minutes for eggplant, zucchini, and squash, and about 10 minutes for bell peppers and onion. If your grill pan is not big enough for all that food (like mine) work in batches transferring to a baking sheet in a 200 degree oven to keep warm.

Divide vegetables between 2 plates; drizzle with vinegar. Sprinkle cheese over and serve.  

All the vegetables were very tasty. This might have been great as a side dish, but passing it off as a main dish lacked something. Traditionally ratatouille is served over rice or pasta, so that probably would have served this as well. I have been reaping the benefits of my pile of cooked veggies for days though. Every morning for the next few days I was able to throw together an amazing egg white omelet in no time flat. Just chop up the leftovers (minus the eggplant, that got a little soggy) saute for about 2 minutes to heat them up, and they were fabulous to fill my breakfast. Not to mention the fantastic imported feta cheese I had purchased to finish the dish (and at $5 for the container there was no way I wasn't using that up). The August veggie binge continues. I swear, one of these days Will's going to bring home a raw steak and give me puppy eyes until I cook it. What are your favorite vegetables/preparations at this time of year? Leave it in the comments!

Grilled Eggplant Parmesan

"Oh dear. That's not good."
That was my reaction the other morning when, for the first time in a month, I weighed myself.

I wasn't entirely surprised, and I imagine you aren't either, even before I had just stopped weighing in, the scale had been creeping dangerously upward for a few months. Taking the month of July off to just not care at all hadn't helped things. Still I regret nothing. The Blueberry Peach Gratin, the Kale cooked in Panchetta grease, the Food Truck Drive In, all were amazing ways to spend my summer. And then there's the food I didn't blog about, but lets just saying I'm getting markedly better at homemade ice cream. Ooo, and Restaurant Week was great, I highly recomend the egg yolk in truffle butter of "Uovo" at SD26. But not as diet food.

So yes, I have officially gained back half the weight I had taken off for the wedding, but I haven't been all that depressed about it. Why? Because August is an amazing month to cut your calories by eating fresh veggies and lots of them. The days in early summer when the farmer's market was a bit sparse are long gone, and now table after table teems with food pulled right out of the ground and ready to be my dinner. I filled my freezer with homemade veggie stock last weekend and I am all ready to see what low cal options I have as the harvest comes in. I'm already dreaming of remaking that Zucchini Soup vegetarian style.

A stroll through the farmer's market this past weekend had me picking up my very first Eggplant of the year, and with the beautiful tomatoes piled in bin after bin, I knew just what I was craving. I wanted Eggplant Parmesan. "WAIT!" I can hear you all crying, "Deep frying your veggies is not going to help trim your waistline!" While I have breaded and fried my veggies before (and believe me I love them that way) this recipe only calls for grilling the eggplant. No egg, no breading, no frying. Which means like 87% less guilt. There is a bit of cheese still involved, which if you are super dieting you could go with the low fat versions available in every supermarket. Since I had already foregone meat and deep frying, I figured I could afford real cheese. Besides, I had a huge chunk of aged parmesan just sitting in my fridge. I refuse to be wasteful.

Speaking of not wasting things, I had a bowl of lovely heirloom cherry tomatoes sitting in a bowl on my table that we picked up at Brooklyn Grange last week (still love these guys and their rooftop garden). It wasn't nearly enough to complete my sauce, but they were going to turn soon if I didn't use them, so I combined them with the plum tomatoes I had picked up. This paled the color of the sauce a bit, but the flavor was still great. Also it looked really pretty sitting in the blender.

Grilled Eggplant Parmesan
Adapted from Gourmet
Serves 4

Ingredients:

Tomato Sauce:
- 1 1/2 lbs. tomatoes, roughly chopped
- 2 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
- 1 medium yellow onion, chopped
- 5 garlic cloves, chopped
- 1/4 teaspoon red pepper flakes
- 1/3 cup grated Parmigiano-Reggiano (the light stuff if your super worried about total calories)

Sandwiches:
- 4 (6 inch) hoagie rolls, split
- 1/4 cup extra virgin olive oil
- 2 (1 lb.) eggplants
- 1/2 lb. thinly sliced provolone or fresh mozzarella (again, there are light versions)
- 1 cup of basil leaves

Directions:
Puree tomatoes in a blender or food processor until smooth. Heat oil in a 3-4 quart heavy saucepan over medium-high heat until it shimmers. Saute onion and garlic with red pepper flakes until golden, about 4 minutes. Add tomato puree, 1/2 teaspoon of salt, and 1/4 teaspoon pepper and simmer, uncovered, stirring occasionally, until thickened, 30-35 minutes. Remove from heat and stir in cheese. (If you've made a tomato sauce before, you know there's room to play here. I threw in a pinch of brown sugar to cut the acidity and a shake of my favorite focaccia blend because I believe it can do no wrong. If you have some seasoning you think would make this even more kick ass, go nuts.)

Once sauce is prepared place a grill pan over medium-high heat. Brush grill pan with olive oil. Cut eggplants crosswise into 1/2 inch think slices. Brush both sides of slices with olive oil, and season with a pinch of salt.

Grill eggplant, loosening with a spatula and turning occasionally to avoid over browning, until very tender and clear grill marks appear, about 6 to 8 minutes. In between flips you can cover your grill pan with a cookie sheet.

Toast rolls. While rolls are still hot, lay on cheese. (I did this while they sat in my toaster oven, and then waited for the cheese to melt to remove them.) Top with eggplant, and spoon on about 3 tablespoons of sauce per sandwich. Place basil leaves on top. If you like, you can add a small sprinkle of parmesan to finish.

These sandwiches are great. They burst with all the bounty of the farmer's market, and they are so low on the guilt scale that I had two of them (seconds are probably not dietician recommended). Before we moved to NY I don't think Will had ever eaten eggplant, but there he was, inhaling this vegetarian delight.

So the goal is to lose 3-4 pounds by the end of August, since I'm going to the shore on Labor Day. How am I doing?  I'm breaking my own rules here and going public with some sensitive information. Be kind. On July 31 I weighed in at 136.2 (the wedding weight was around 129). Therefore the goal for the month is between 132.2 and 133.2, and this morning I am down to 135.4! I have rejoined my gym as well and I am on my way! Feel free to play along at home, I'll give you an update of my status and hopefully a healthy new recipe every Wednesday this month. Having your own weight loss struggles as the summer plies us with pie and ice cream? Tell me what you plan to do (or not do) in the comments! And cheer me on!

On a Dark 'N' Stormy Night

On the Pennsylvania trip we took last weekend, I picked up the publication the state owned liquor stores put out. It's called Wine and Spirits Quarterly, it's free and as you would imagine, it comes out every three months. The things published in it need to be taken with a grain of salt because the only things featured happen to be the same things featured in the store. At least thats the way it seems to me. But I like to flip through and see what the people on the Pennsylvania Liquor Control Board have to say about what's hip in the world of cocktails.

The cover story focused on the genre of dark rum based drinks. The one that caught our eye was the Dark 'n' Stormy cocktail. Neat, I thought. I like rum. However, the thing that caught my attention was that the recipe was provided by Gosling's rum. The very people that produce the rum used in this very cocktail. This made the recipe dubious at best. Highly dubious.

As it turns out, the Dark 'n' Stormy cocktail is a registered trademark of Gosling. They own the drink. And stranger still, I've heard of it. I'm not sure if it's just the weird apostrophe n spelling that's trademarked or if it's the drink itself. What if I use an ampersand? I decided not to ask too many questions. I don't need legal trouble right now. Gosling's even produces a line of ginger beer for the specific purpose of making Dark 'n' Stormys. I can't easily get it, so I went with another brand. I hope I don't get sued by Gosling's.

The drink originated in Bermuda, where Gosling's is produced, and has since been exported to various other places according to Wikipedia. It's become popular in Australia since traveling rugby players discovered it and has become popular in the United States among sailing communities along the east coast. I went to an all boys prep school for grades nine through twelve and Heather likes to give me guff about it. Since discovering the popularity of the drink in the sailing community, Heather has this picture in her head of me standing on the deck of my yacht with a captain's hat on my head, my high school diploma in one hand, a dark 'n' stormy in the other and singing my school fight song. Heather thinks that would be quite yare.

Full disclosure: I would have done this cocktail for last week's blog, but I was having trouble tracking down ginger beer. Further disclosure: I didn't know what the difference was between ginger ale and ginger beer. The internet tells me that ginger beer is more gingery than ginger ale--like ginger ale with a kick. So I went to the Gourmet Garage near my work and dished out $1.99 for a 12 oz. bottle. That extra ginger kick isn't cheap.

Dark 'n' Stormy

adapted from Gosling's Rum

-2 oz. dark rum

-ginger beer (5-6 oz. give or take)

-lime wedge for garnish

In a tall glass filled with ice, add rum. Top with ginger beer. Garnish with lime wedge.

Presto. Yet another exciting and yet refreshing summer cocktail. And I would recommend springing for the ginger beer because it makes the drink taste better. My opinion might be slightly biased because I'm not the biggest fan of ginger ale.

Heather and I both felt that the Dark 'n' Stormy was like a more sophisticated version of a rum and coke. It makes sense if you think about it. Both cocktails are comprised of rum, a sugary effervescent beverage, and a lime wedge. But the deepness and spice of the dark rum and the bite of the ginger give it a nice savory quality that would make me want to pay more for it in a bar than a rum and coke. I hate to admit it, but part of the satisfaction of crafting cocktails yourself is knowing that somewhere in this world, some poor schmuck is paying top dollar for the thing you're drinking on the cheap. I never said that smugness wasn't one of my motives.

Peach Blueberry Gratin

The fruit was taunting me. "Fresh from Jersey!" the signs proclaimed as I passed mounds of soft looking peaches and containers of blueberries. It wasn't that I didn't know what to do with them. I knew all too well. Last summer I had labored over a pie that was straight from heaven, full of juicy peaches and blueberries that burst with flavor. The problem? Pie crust. Under the very best circumstances, I kind of suck at them.  Last years attempt turned out kinda wonky, as illustrated on the right. I pulled off a half decent one at Thanksgiving, but I benefited from it being a normal temperature in my apartment. Currently this place has reached about the 4th circle of Hell, strictly in a mercury moving sense. This recipe already has me blanching peaches to get the skin off, the added frustration of throwing a mass of crust in the freezer every 3 minutes just to keep it from melting on me was NOT going to happen.

Inspiration hit, when I ran across Smitten Kitchen's recipe for a blueberry peach cobbler. "Wait," I thought, "you can make a fruit desert without the pie crust tragedy?" My brain nearly exploded. I wasn't too keen on the dropping of biscuit dough on my dessert, it's a little hard to divide up all pretty. It started me on the research path though, and before I knew it I had discovered a little french dessert known as a Gratin. All the gooey filling, some crunchy topping, none of the melting and freezing. I had only known gratins in the potato form before and was never a huge fan. Take out the bechameled potatoes and throwing some yummy sugary fruit, however, and you've got one hell of a dish. This version uses bread crumbs to make the topping, but according to my America's Test Kitchen cookbook, the French are fond of it as a way to use up stale croissants. I used it as a handy way to use up the end of an Italian Bread Loaf.

There was one last way this dessert was going to help me out. My dearest friend Anne had just moved into a brand new apartment with brand new roommates. Nothing says "I'm awesome to live with" then coming in with a big tasty treat. I was going to make a housewarming gift. Instead of putting this in a traditional gratin dish I plunked it into my pie plate, but the one I own is a bit shallow. Oh darn, that meant there was enough left to fill four ramekins that I would have to keep. This could probably fill one deep pie dish, or a whole bunch of ramekins, or just portion it out as I did.

Blueberry Peach Gratin
Adapted from PARADE magazine (filling) and America's Test Kitchen (filling)
Ingredients:

Filling:
- 3 to 3 1/2 pounds ripe peaches
- 2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
- 1 cup blueberries
- 1 tablespoon vanilla extract
- 1/3 cup (packed) light-brown sugar
- 1/2 cup granulated sugar
- 1/4 cup all-purpose flour

Topping:
- 3 slices high-quality sandwich bread (such as a pullman loaf) torn up, slightly stale
- 1/4 cup light-brown sugar
- 2 tablespoons unsalted butter, softened
- pinch of cinnamon

Directions:
Preheat oven to 400°.

Using a paring knife, cut an X into the bottom of each peach. Drop the peaches into a pot of boiling water for 1 minute (this step is sometimes easiest when done in batches). Remove to a bowl. When they are cool enough to handle, slip off the skins, Cut peaches into 3/4 inch slices and place in a large bowl. Toss with the lemon juice to prevent discoloring. Add the blueberries, vanilla, brown sugar, granulated sugar, and the flour, toss well.

To prepare topping pulse all topping ingredients in a food processor until the mixture resembles course crumbs, about 10 pulses.

Distribute filling among pie plate and ramekins. Sprinkle topping over the filling evenly in all baking containers. Place containers on baking sheets. If using a pie plate, cover that with tin foil.

Bake 10 minutes. If the toppings on the ramekins are deep golden brown and the fruit is hot (blueberries will have burst), remove them from the oven (if not they can bake 5 minutes more). Remove foil from pie plate, and bake another 10 minutes, until the topping is deep golden brown. Let cool on wire rack before serving.

I took some of the ramekins out when they were only light brown, and then finished them in the toaster oven at 325° for 3 minutes later that night, making it perfect for dinner parties. Anne raved about her pie sized gratin, I'm not sure if her new roomies ever got any. The dish goes PERFECT with vanilla ice cream, and since my friend Megan had sent me vanilla beans last year I made my own ice cream for the occasion. If Will hadn't already gone ahead and married me I think this would have sealed the deal.

Pirate's Cocktail

Keeping in line with some of the themes I've been playing around with--savory cocktails, summer drinks, pirates--I thought I would share with you fine people a delightful cocktail that is fairly simple and yet deeply satisfying.

Pirate's

adapted from Epicurious

-1 1/2 oz. dark rum

-3/4 oz. sweet vermouth

-dash angostura bitters

-3-4 ice cubes

Stir ingredients in a cocktail shaker and strain into a cocktail glass.

What you'll find is a cocktail that is not unlike a Manhattan but with a more tropical twist. It's warm and spicy but also oddly refreshing. The name is also appropriate. After my first sip, I felt the urge to yell out "Avast! Shiver me timbers!" I didn't yell it, but I encourage you all to.

While in Pennsylvania, we decided that we needed to invest in a bottle of dark rum. No more excuses. I'm tired of it being a thousand degrees this summer and not being able to take advantage of things like dark rum. Last week's cocktail called for dark rum and I had to use Bacardi instead. I let you all down and I'm sorry. After scoping out all the choices at the state store, we went with a rum called Gosling's, an 80 proof dark rum from Bermuda.

As Heather, her mother and I were waiting at the bus stop for our New York bound bus, (it was an hour late) Heather and I got bored and decided to sample the rum in the car, much to the disgust of my dear mother-in-law. It was a bit spicier than I expected it to be. I think I would have appreciated a more syrupy texture along the lines of a Myer's Dark rum, but it was pretty good. Plus it has a little cartoon seal on the front of the bottle balancing a barrel of rum on its nose.

I imagine that with the weather continuing to be as kiln-like as it is, we'll go through this bottle pretty fast and need to get another. We'll probably try a bunch until we find our favorite. Who knows? We might even go crazy and get one of those bottles that spells it "Rhum." Only time will tell. In the meantime, all that's left for me to do is work on my swashbuckling and pillaging. You know what they say--practice makes perfect.

Basil Zucchini Soup

After the grilled zucchini I made a few weeks ago, the flavor has been haunting me. That juicy, fresh flavor that a recently cut zucchini has, the vibrant green. Zucchini season just inspires me to eat veggies. Will and I have been on a bit of a veggie kick lately (which means that I'm on a veggie kick and Will eats what I make him. What's he going to do, cook for himself?) brought on by the amazing bounty of the farmers market, and my desire to not turn the oven on. I know I could stir fry, bring out the grill pan, or even saute a lot of meats, but the truth is at this time of year meat just takes too much time and too much heat. Most of the meat we've had lately has been in the form of prosciutto or salami, cooking already done.

It was a whim, really, that those two huge zucchinis ended up in my bag at the Jackson Heights Farmers Market last week. I didn't know what I was going to cook yet, and they just looked so hearty and awesome. It was time, I decided, for a fresh summer soup.

I wanted something simple, not too many ingredients, easy to make on a weeknight. This soup appealed to me because of its use of basil, another heavenly summer ingredient. Use a light hand with it, otherwise the soup can come out a bit too pestoy, though that's really not the worst thing in the world. I used chicken stock because I still had a large bag of it in the freezer, but next time I might use vegetable stock if I have it on hand to make it a completely vegetarian soup. (I would say vegan, except I loved dropping spoonfuls of sour cream or creme fraiche into it, making it decidedly unvegan.) *Editors Note: I tried making it with vegetable stock a few weeks later, also very delicious.

Zucchini Basil Soup
Adapted from Gourmet Magazine

Ingredients:
- 2 pounds zucchini, trimmed and cut crosswise into halves.
- 1/2 teasoon salt
- 3/4 cup chopped onion
- 2 garlic cloves, chopped
- 1/4 cup olive oil
- 3 cups stock (chicken or vegetable)
- 1/3 cup basil leaves
- 1 cup of water

Directions:
With a vegetable peeler, peel skin off of half a zucchini into thin strips; toss with salt and drain in a sieve until wilted, for at least 20 minutes. Coarsely chop remaining zucchini.

Cook onion and garlic in oil in a 3-4 quart heavy saucepan over medium-low heat, stirring occasionally, until softened, about 5 minutes. Add stock and simmer, parrtially covered, until tender, about 15 minutes. Using caution with the hot liquid, use an immersion blender, puree soup with basil.  (If you don't own an immersion blender you can puree soup in 2 batches in a normal blender.)

Bring water to a boil in a small saucepan and blanch peeled zucchini skin 1 minute. Remove skin with a slotted spoon. If your soup is too thick, you can use the blanching water to thin it out.

Season soup with salt and pepper. Serve in shallow bowls with zucchini skin strips mounded on top.

This soup was fantastic, fresh tasting and quick to put together. A few tips if you are making this on a weeknight: since the soup is eventually pureed, the chopping in this recipe does not need to be the most pretty. If you have one, you can chop the onion in a food processor, which I won't usually do because it can emulsify the onion, but in this case its not a big deal. The peeled skin garnish can be skipped, but they are really tasty and add something really nice to the soup, so I recommend making them, it doesn't take very long.

Will scarfed down three bowls before I stopped him--the man was going to eat my lunch for the next day! But then, confession time, I went out for lunch the next day. No problem, I popped the soup in the freezer and ate it nearly a week later, at which point it was still perfection. Though the recipe could be trimmed down (it makes 4-6 servings) I say make the whole thing and freeze, then eat it later with sour cream at work. I promise, co-workers will be jealous.

Bolo Cocktail

As the weather heats up in the summer, one thing we try to do is keep plenty of rum on hand. We do this for two reasons:

1) Rum is incredibly versatile in a wide array of summer drinks.

2) We're pirates. Yarrrr.

Sometimes one gets bored with the typical things that can be done with rum (rum and cokes, daiquiris, mojitos and the like) and feels the desire to branch out and do other things. I was scouring my resources when I came across a drink called the Bolo Cocktail. It was in The Savoy Cocktail Book, which means that it has a history dating back to at least the 1930s if not sooner. I'm a fan of a cocktail that's tried and true.

Upon doing some internet research, I found a couple of different variations that I found intriguing. I kept the sugar part of the Savoy recipe, but incorporated some bitters into the mix. It is my opinion that a drink is rarely, if ever, made worse by the incorporation of bitters.

Bolo Cocktail

Adapted heavily from The Savoy Cocktail Book

-2 oz. rum

-1 oz. orange juice

-1/4 oz. simple syrup

-dash bitters (I used Fee Bros.)

-juice of half a lemon

Shake and strain into a chilled cocktail glass and garnish with a lemon wedge.

I thought my adaptation worked out rather well. I wish I had dark rum, but under the circumstances I thought Bacardi was a nice substitute. Sometimes in this world, cocktails are mixed under less than perfect circumstances and we all just have to adapt. Like pirates. It had a fruity, sweet syrupy taste that would have made it a nice brunch cocktail. I'll have to keep it in mind the next time I feel the desire to drink in the morning.

What I like about this cocktail is its simplicity. It starts with a simple enough base--rum and citrus--and then throws in a couple of ingredients that are common enough but when put together, yields something unique.

Overall I thought it was a nice way to use some relatively inexpensive ingredients I had on hand. I love cognac, Benedictine, and single malt scotch as much as the next guy, but sometimes their use can be a little cost prohibitive. Sometimes you just want a nice cocktail that tastes like it costs a lot of money. Because if you know anything about pirates, they love rum, cocktails that taste expensive but aren't, and swashbuckling. Lots of swashbuckling.

Playing with Fire

In the boiling hot weather that has permeated the East Coast this summer, Americans favorite method of summer cooking has been everywhere. America loves to grill. Loves it. Can't get enough. From the NY Times 101 Ways to Grill last week to the increasing numbers of Food Network stars being shoved out of the comfortable havens of their studio kitchen sets and into really fake looking backyards, everyone has been excited to cook their food on a rack over flames.

Everyone, that is, except me. I have no backyard, no balcony, and therefore, no grill. For me summer doesn't mean "Oh fun, I'll just go outside to cook!" It means trying not to pass out from the heat in my not-air-conditioned kitchen. My grill pan delivers up Turkey Burgers and Steak just fine, but there is none of the atmosphere of standing out side on a summer evening, delivering up piles of burgers and veggies fresh off the open flame. On July 4th, however, I got a bit of a taste of the good life. Using the holiday weekend to shoot of to PA to visit the family, my mother gave me free range of her tiny little Weber grill. In my mom's world, everything is tiny and built for one, and this little glorified camp stove is no exception. Still, it was a grill, and I was going to cook dinner for 3 on it, even if it meant doing everything in shifts.

First up, I was going to grill corn. As corn season has begun I have started seeing the ears everywhere, and though corn grilling is a fairly simple procedure, I had never executed it.

Grilled Corn

Done exactly as Gourmet tells me to

Ingredients:

- 3 ears of corn

- At least 1 gallon of cold water in a pot or clean bucket

- Butter and salt for serving

Directions:

Peel back the corn husks and remove the silk. Pull the husks back up around the corn. Soak corn in water for 10 minutes.

While corn soaks, prepare grill. When fire is hot drain the corn and grill, in the husks on a lightly oiled grill rack, uncovered, turning, 10 minutes. Carefully pull back husks and grill corn, turning, until slightly browned and tender, about 5 minutes more.

I love how easy grilling recipes can be, and the corn turned out great, soft enough to eat but still crunchy, with that slightly smoky flavor you don't get from boiling or steaming. Once it was done I pulled off the husks completely and covered the plate in foil. It was time for round two.

The day before at a picnic at my Aunt and Uncle's house, my very generous Uncle Joe allowed me to raid his vegetable garden. My Uncle Joe has been gardening for as long as I can remember, and quite frankly the garden is an organic localvore's dream. He uses no chemicals, creates his own little plants from seeds, and cares for the garden meticulously every year. From garlic to cherry tomatoes he brings in a great crop every year. My mother looks forward to being in charge of watering every year when they go on vacation so she can raid the freshly grown produce.

Uncle Joe gifted me with a gorgeous zucchini and two beautiful spring onions. The beauty of knowing a grower is you can eat things right after they are clipped from the plant, and I was going to eat that zucchini right away. I did it simply, two simply to lay out a detailed recipe for you. I simply sliced the zucchini into 1/4 inch slices, brushed with olive oil on both sides and sprinkled with salt and pepper. then I just tossed them on the grill, about 3-4 minutes per side, until they looked nice and charred. 

I decided I needed a sauce for the zucchini to be dipped in, so I thought I'd mix some mayo with garlic, to make a kind of aioli. To roast the garlic a bit I chopped up 1 large clove of garlic, brushed it with a bit of olive oil, wrapped in in a tin foil packet and threw it on the grill for 5 or 6 minutes next to the zucchini. Almost as an afterthought I cut a lemon in half and grilled it next to the veggie. Then I mixed the juice (about 1 tablespoon) with about a quarter cup of mayonnaise and the garlic. The zucchini was great, softened and juicy, and the aioli complemented it well giving it a tangy cool topping.

I also made mussels in beer, but that dish I feel is too incomplete to talk about yet, and I was trying to recreate a restaurant dish I had heard about but never tasted. If you've ever made mussels in beer and have tips, leave it in the comments. I'm back in NY now, hiding in the bedroom, the only room in the place with air conditioning. This doesn't mean I've entirely stopped cooking. Last week I made a fresh mint ice cream, and churned it in the bedroom so the bowl wouldn't defrost. Two months before the weather begins to cool, let's see how creative I can get!

A Refreshing Summer Swizzle

Sometimes in the world of drink mixing, it's important to be bold enough to improvise. The New York Times dining section from June 24th of last year had a great series of articles and recipes on summer drinks which I filed away for later. When we started to get bored with our old standby drinks this summer, I dusted it off and hunted around for inspiration. Many of the drinks--with the exception of the gin based ones--were ones that I've made before, but a few of them have yet to be tackled.

The one that caught my eye was a drink that was mentioned in an article about swizzling. It's called a Campbell Swizzle. It starts out simply enough: rum, lime, simple syrup, bitters. But the thing that provided a bit of a hangup was a liqueur called Velvet Falernum. Upon doing a little research on Wikipedia, I discovered that it embodies flavors of almond, ginger, lime, and vanilla. I replaced the Velvet Falernum with a little Frangelico to capture the essence of almond, a little Grand Marnier to complement the orange bitters and lime, and a dash of vanilla extract.

Campbell Swizzle

Adapted from the NY Times dining section

-1 oz. white rum

-3/4 oz. fresh lime juice

-1/4 oz. simple syrup

-3/8 oz. Frangelico

-3/8 oz. Grand Marnier

-4 dashes orange bitters

-dash Angostura bitters

-dash vanilla extract

-mint sprig for garnish

Pour all ingredients except for mint into a tall glass. Fill glass with crushed ice. Blend ingredients with a genuine swizzle stick or a bar spoon for about 20 seconds. Add more crushed ice to form a mound on top, and top with mint.

What resulted was a complex, sweet, citrusy blend of flavors. Heather commented that she could see this drink being featured at a swanky bar like Dutch Kills. Well used bitters has that effect on a drink. As far as the vanilla extract, a little goes a long way. Too much will overpower your drink and obscure the other flavors and aromas. Just a drop will do. On a humid day, the crushed ice will create a rewarding layer of frost on the glass.

When a drink recipe needs to be altered because of a missing ingredient, it's fun to brainstorm about the different solutions and combinations of ingredients that could also work. Not only is it a fun process, but it allows you to take ownership of the drink--to put your signature on it and tailor it to your tastes. It's one of the things that keeps mixing interesting.

Retro Caesar Salad

Last month I read a seductive description of seared radishes in the Times. I became determined to try cooking these root vegetables. I shopped, cooked, and was frankly not thrilled. Maybe it would be different if I was a huge fan of raw radishes; perhaps then I would have been more enamored of the cooked ones. As it was, I just found them kind of bland and disappointing. To concoct that experiment, however, I had purchased a small bottle of anchovy fillets packed in olive oil. I haven't worked much with anchovies. As a child of the 80's I'm still dealing with the general pop culture references of "Anchovies on a pizza! Ewwwww!" brought on by the stylings of the Ninja Turtles.

As an adult I've become more aware that anchovies are a gourmet ingredient dating back to Roman times, with a strong, earth flavor that is noticeable in a number of dishes. Now I stood looking at this tiny jar of preserved fish fillets, and wondered what else I could use them for now that my dreams of radish nirvana had been dashed. That's when it hit me, a dish that is so classic it's a wonder I had never tried my hand at it before. It was time to put together a classic Caesar Salad. Unfortunately I had no idea what that meant. A bit of background: while a staple of Italian/American cuisine, the lore of the Caesar Salad was invented in Tijuana, Mexico by a restaurateur named Caesar Cardini. In 1979 a reporter at the New York Times hunted down his restaurant (appropriately named Caesar's Restaurant) to find the original recipe, which apparently, at the time, they printed on the back of their business cards. The recipe includes no mustard, as some do, and to my dismay, no anchovies. According to the article the restaurant (a somewhat seedy bar and grill inside Caesar's Hotel in Tijuana) itself didn't even use olive oil, they made their base out of corn oil.

This was not the 1970's retro chic dinner party fair I was looking for. Then I realized what it was I was looking for. I needed my father's Caesar Salad. My parents were late 60's/early 70's hippies, throwing dinner parties with my mother in long dresses and horn rimmed glasses, my father sporting a spectacular white boy fro. There were the discussions that turned into debates that turned into arguments that lasted late into the night. As the story goes, at a certain point my Uncle Jimmy had to drink his cocktails out of plastic cups, my mother had lost too much stemware during a heated discussion when he would slam his glass down on the table. Being the aforementioned child of the 80's, I don't have memories of this time, just a few faded pictures and memories of the relics that still floated around when I was young. The avocado colored fondue set. My mother's old tortoiseshell glasses. A photo of mom and Aunt Donna with spectacular upswept beehives. And a giant wooden salad bowl with little carved individual bowls that used to have their own cupboard above the pantry, brought down only on special occasions when holiday parties would bring old friends. They would reminisce about the cocktail parties back then and there would be mentions of Kennedy and Nixon and my Uncle Jimmy would get handed a sippy cup of white wine...

The old wooden set is long gone, the victim of too many moves and a late 90's purging of old stuff that only a decade later would I recognize as vintage and awesome. In its place, however, is another giant wooden salad bowl, a gift of my cousin Steve and his wife Sandy at my engagement party over years ago. I don't often make salad, but in this bout of nostalgia and salad based motivation I stood on a chair and pulled it off its shelf. Luckily, getting the old family recipe was not hard. Uncle Jimmy, the glass smashing party guest previously mentioned, had made an identical salad. The recipe probably had been hammered out over croutons and vodka in about 1972, and apparently he had thought to give the recipe to his son. I imagine a solemn council much like the Continental Congress with dueling factions engaged in debate.  "Gentleman, can we please get back to the issue of the dressing."

My father having long since passed on, the sole guardian of the recipe has become my cousin Jonathan, who thankfully wrote it out for me a few years ago. It's been stashed in my recipe binder ever since and only now have I thought to tackle it head on. I made only two small alterations from the original recipe. The patriarchs favored anchovy paste, but as half the point of this experiment was to use that little bottle, I substituted chopped fillets. Also the original recipe calls for boiling the eggs for one minute before using, but the more traditional way of making the salad is to use them raw. As evidenced by the fact that Will and I have drunk more then our fair share of raw eggs, we do not shy away from their usage. This will probably last right up until one of us contracts salmonella. If you are concerned about such things, boil away.

Caesar Salad
Lightly Adapted from Dean Shock and James Alexander, as related by Jonathan Alexander

Ingredients
- 2 small head of Romaine, torn into pieces
- 1/2 cup olive oil
- 1/2 cup freshly grated Parmesan
- 2 large eggs
- 4 oil packed anchovy, finely chopped (or 1 tsp anchovy paste)
- 2 tsp lemon juice
- 1 tsp Worcestershire sauce
- 3 garlic cloves, finely chopped
- Salt and Pepper to taste

Directions
Clean the lettuce and put in your salad bowl. Pour enough olive oil into the salad bowl to coat all of your lettuce, about 3 tablespoons. Take the remaining olive oil and pour into a small bowl. Add anchovy, lemon juice, Worcestershire, garlic to the olive oil and whisk together. Add salt and pepper to taste. Whisk in eggs. Pour dressing over lettuce and mix. Then sprinkle Parmesan over top.

When going over the notes Jonathan had given me, I realized he had included a crouton recipe too. Ideally you would want to make croutons out of slightly stale bread, but I didn't happen to have any around. I made it with fresh bread, and it turned out just fine, perfectly crispy and crunchy.

Homemade Croutons

Ingredients
- 3 cups of cubed bread
- 2 tablespoons of unsalted butter
- 2 tablespoons of olive oil
- 2 cloves of garlic, halved
- 1 teaspoon Italian seasoning (optional)

Directions
Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Heat butter, olive oil, and garlic over medium heat until butter melts. In a large bowl toss bread cubes,  butter mixture, and seasoning if using (I used a focaccia mix). Spread bread cubes on a cookie sheet and bake 10-12 minutes, until golden brown.

The croutons turned out perfect, and the salad was as I remembered it: oily, cheesy, earthy, and utterly bad for me. The salad is a throwback, but there's a reason it still graces the menu of every TGI Fridays, it is the salad version of comfort food. As children of the 80's we all ate it at some party where our parents were dragging out the dining repertoire of the 70's, and it was the one salad I actually ate and didn't just dig through to find the croutons. Now, it is officially part my retro repertoire. As for the salad bowl, it's now on a more reachable shelf. Next to my fondue pot.

Sangria

Occasionally it's nice to make drinks in a big pitcher and work on it over the course of an evening or weekend afternoon. It gives one the opportunity to relax and enjoy several rounds without having to constantly labor after each. I suppose there are several cocktails that lend themselves to be made in large quantities. On a couple of occasions, I've made mojitos that way. But there are certain drinks that especially lend themselves to being made by the batch. One of them is sangria.

The first time I've made sangria was a couple of years ago and I haven't made any since. This is one of those drinks that has an infinite number of incarnations. First, one has to decide whether to use red or white wine. Then decide which times of fruit to incorporate. Then decide which sweetening agent (if any) to add. It's really up to the mixologist to decide. I spent a fair bit of time researching several recipes to determine which one appealed to me and my tastes. I couldn't find the recipe I used a couple years ago but I found one that is similar. I'll link to it here but post it anyway.

Red Wine Sangria

adapted from allrecipes.com
-1 orange
-1 lemon-1 lime
-1 medium apple, sliced
-1 cup pitted cherries
-1 cup fresh pineapple chunks
-3/4 cup brandy
-1 (750 milliliter) bottle dry red wine
-1 (12 ounce) can lemon-lime soda to taste
-1 cup orange juice to taste

Slice the orange, lemon and lime into thin rounds. Place the citrus in a pitcher with the apples cherries and pineapple. Pour in the brandy and refrigerate for two hours or more. Chill the bottle of red wine, lemon-lime soda and orange juice at the same time.

Gently crush the fruits with a spoon, then stir in the red wine, lemon-lime soda and orange juice. Add additional brandy or orange juice to taste.

I've found that a dry red wine does complement the sweetness, but a wine with a bit of a spice helps as well. It gives the sangria a little complexity it might not otherwise have.

Part of me abhors this recipe for its use of lemon-lime soda, but there is a certain simplicity to its use that is appropriate to the spirit of the recipe. It's a simple way to incorporate the sweetness, citrus and effervescence into the drink and only using one ingredient. For such elegance, I'm willing to overlook its prepackaged nature.

I tried to put the cherries, apples and pineapple at the bottom of the pitcher while it was chilling so it would soak up more brandy. I figured I would be more likely to eat those things than the citrus.

I've been fortunate enough to attempt this recipe twice in the past week. I hadn't intended on it, but a whole pineapple produces much more than a cup; and I bought a big package of cherries. It would have been preferable if cherries were in season; they would have been fresher and cheaper. But in these less than ideal circumstances, I had to buy a big bag and it would have been a shame not to take advantage of this bounty. I found that cutting the apples and citrus thicker made it easier to work with the second time around. The thinly cut citrus tended to fall apart when stirred or transferred to a glass.

The nice part about this summer drink is that all the labor is done up front, which means that you're free to enjoy the sun and perhaps some pleasant company. My favorite part of mixing drinks and cocktails has always been the social aspect that comes with it. There is an aspect of fruit infusion involved which means that the garnish is taken care of by just pouring the fruit into the glass. All that's left for you to do is enjoy.

Strawberry Ice Cream

I have been staking out the farmers markets. Every time I was near one, I would do a cursory glance. Strawberries? No. Damn. So I'd buy some tomatoes, and herb plant or two, and go on my way. In the grocery store I would pass California strawberries and sigh, because I was being stubborn. I was insistent on having local strawberries, so the taste would be the absolute freshest. Memorial Day weekend I spent in Pennsylvania, and I knew, if I looked, there would be strawberries, but they would be hard pressed to make the journey back to NY. It was maddening. Finally, this past Wednesday, I practically skipped through Union Square, it seemed like every booth was teeming with strawberries, cartons and cartons of them, pretty and red, cascading from tables and boxes everywhere. And I knew just what to do with them. I was going to make Strawberry Ice Cream.

The fascination has been developing for about a month now. As the temperature went up, I keep glancing at the dormant ice cream machine that has not been switched on since the Pumpkin Ice Cream last fall. I would be shifting things around in my freezer, and see my mixer bowl just sitting there, waiting to churn. Somewhere in this obsession I decided that it would have to be strawberry ice cream, with fresh, farmers market strawberries. Those lovely, red little jewels, all bumpy and misshapen and not quite perfect like the ones sold in grocery stores, with that deep intense flavor that comes from having been driven straight from the farm. I would accept nothing else. So excited was I when I found my beloved berries, I bought far too many and Will had to make drinks out of them. My life is so hard sometimes.

Strawberry Ice Cream
Lovingly Lifted from Gourmet Magazine

Ingredients:

- 1 3/4 Cups Heavy Cream
- 3 (3 by 1 inch) strips of fresh lemon zest
- 1/8 teaspoon salt
- 2 large eggs
- 3/4 cups sugar
- 1 lb strawberries (about 3 cups) trimmed and halved
- 1 tablespoon fresh lime juice

Directions:
Combine cream, zest, and salt in a heavy saucepan and bring just to a boil. Remove from heat and discard zest.

Whisk eggs with 1/2 cup of sugar in a bowl, then add hot cream in a slow stream, whisking. Carefully wipe out saucepan with paper towel to remove any cream that has dried itself to the side of the pan. Pour cream and egg back into saucepan and cook over moderately low heat, stirring constantly, until slightly thickened enough to coat the back of the spoon and leaves a clear trail when a finger is drawn through it. An instant read thermometer will read 170 degrees. Do not boil.

Immediately pour custard into through a fine sieve into a metal bowl, then cool to room temperature, stirring occasionally. (If you need to speed up this process set your bowl in a larger bowl of ice water and stir until cooled.) Refrigerate, covered, about 2 hours or up to 1 day.

While custard chills, puree strawberries with remaining 1/4 cup sugar and lemon juice in a blender until smooth, then force through fine sieve (to remove seeds) into chilled custard. Stir the puree into custard until the mixture is all one color.

Freeze custard in ice-cream maker (in mine this took about 25 minutes, but check your manufacturer's instructions) then transfer to an airtight container and put in freezer overnight to harden. Ice cream keeps up to 1 week.

I loved my ice cream. It was super creamy and burst with strawberry flavor. It was a bit tart, I spoke briefly of cutting back a bit on the lemon juice, but Will insists it is perfect and that I am being finicky.

Last year I bought a toy, the Ice Cream Keeper a container that you put in the freezer and then use it to store ice cream for picnics. The instructions said it would keep the ice cream frozen for up to and hour and a half. To test this theory I plunked my ice cream in, stuck in in my picnic cold bag and headed to Governors Island last weekend. I was probably pushing 2 hours by the time we got off the ferry, but it still worked pretty well! A bit mushy, but my fellow picnickers seemed undeterred, and the ice cream vanished in under 5 minutes.

Cod en Papillote with Asparagus

Well, it happened again. Summer hit, my air-conditonless apartment has become a sauna, and I have thoughts like, "I should turn the oven up to 500 degrees and roast fish!" Every year it's like there's a part of my brain that can't figure out the formula Oven=BAD. But I had to do it! The seasonal recipe seduced me! It's not my fault the seasonal recipe didn't come with seasonal cooking instructions!

There were two big factors in my picking this dish. One, Cod was on sale. I've never had Cod but give me a discount and I'll try anything. Two, asparagus season is almost over. My heart is aching. From the first announcement of "Local Asparagus" it's a staple in our apartment, as we munch and grill and chop and bake it into tarts until it fades from the farmers market completely. I even splurged and bought a bunch from the farmers market, with its delicately feathered tips and deep green color. I waved the asparagus around the kitchen giggling like I had just brought home a pair of Jimmy Choos.

This particular preparation calls for creating parchment paper packets, a style that is known in french as "en papillote," though this steam entrapment method is used in a number of cultures. The NY Times has an interesting article about the whole idea from the 90's. Folding was a bit tricky, which is, I suppose, why some forgo the parchment in favor of foil. (Now that I think about it, if you are lucky enough to have an outdoor grill then the foil parchment might be an excellent way of preparing this in the summer.  I must try that.) If I was doing this for a fancy dinner party, I would need to practice this more, because a perfectly folded packet, ripped open to allow the aromatic steam to roll out in a tantalizing cloud, would be really impressive. As this was a test dinner made for only husband and best friend who forgive me anything, my packets looked a little more like mangled UPS packages held together with paper clips. Trapped steam like a charm though!

Cod en Papillote with Asparagus

Adapted from Bon Appetit

Serves 3

Ingredients:

- 1 bunch of asparagus, ends trimmed

- 2 garlic cloves, minced

- 1 teaspoon of salt

- 2 tablespoons unsalted butter

- 1 tablespoon plus 3 teaspoons olive oil

- 1/4 cup lemon juice

- 1 1/2 tablespoons dry white wine

- 1 1/2 teaspoons grated lemon peel

- 1/2 teaspoon ground black pepper

- 1 1/2 teaspoons chopped thyme

- 3 6 oz cod fillets, pinbones removed

Directions:

Mash garlic and salt to paste in a small bowl. Melt butter with 1 tablespoon of oil in small nonstick skillet over medium heat. Add garlic paste; stir until pale golden, about 1 minute. Stir in lemon juice, wine, peel, and black pepper. Remove from heat.

Preheat oven to 500 degrees. (At this point you may want to open your windows more and turn on a fan.) Cut out 4 12-inch squares of parchment paper. Take a square, and drizzle 1 teaspoon of oil on the parchment. Place 1 cod fillet in the center of the parchment. Spoon 2 generous tablespoons of garlic-lemon mixture over fish. sprinkle with about 1/2 teaspoon of thyme. Cover with about 6 or 7 stalks of asparagus, laying diagonally across the parchment square. Wrap two opposite corners in over the fish and asparagus, then fold in the two remaining corners, enclosing completely. Fasten edges together with a metal paper clip or two to seal your packet. Place on a large rimmed baking sheet. Repeat procedure with the other two fillets. If you have any left over asparagus, use remaining parchment square to make it its own packet, spooning over as much lemon-garlic sauce as you like. (Can be prepared up to 6 hours ahead and refrigerated.)

Bake fish until just opaque in center (parchment should turn golden brown), about 12 minutes. Transfer 1 fish packet to each plate. Open packets, being careful not to touch the paper clips, and serve.

It turned out really well, and honestly was not a huge hassle for a weeknight dinner. The neatest part was turning on the oven light, and as it shone through the paper I could see the liquid bubbling in the packets. The cod flaked apart beautifully, and was super moist. Again, this was my first cod, so I've not much to compare it to, but I was a fan. The asparagus-only packet, which was a last minute addition on my part when I realized I had too much, was possibly the biggest hit of all. I would consider making the sauce and cooking just the asparagus that way on the side of some other entree if I was really going for a neat display at a party.

I may get one or two more asparagus dishes in this year, but that season is fading. Happily though, new seasons are coming in. Specifically, berry season. I have containers of little red wonders in my kitchen right now, and who knows what kind of summer treat it might become...

PS- I went to a concert in Central Park this week, The NY City Pops featuring Melody Gardot. My friend Anne who went with me remarked that it was great music to cook to, so I downloaded the album and tried it out with this recipe. She was right.

Brandy Fizz

I'm in a very summer drinks kind of place right now. Normally I tend towards the aromatic, savory types of cocktails, but sometimes you just have to give in to what your heart desires. And since our apartment is largely un-air conditioned, my hearts have been desiring drinks that are cold, citrusy and refreshing. And as it happens, this line of thinking led me to a place I've been meaning to explore for some time now--Fizzes.

All a fizz is is a drink that incorporates effervescence and some element of citrus (most commonly lemon) into the mix. To that end, I've already done some experimenting with fizzes making drinks like collins and mojitos, but nothing that one would classically think of as a fizz. As an amateur mixologist, I value history and authenticity.

With anything old-timey, my new go-to reference is The Savoy Cocktail Book. It give a lot of prohibition-era drinks that one can sift through. Many of the drinks in the fizzes section fell into one or more of the following categories:

-Has a ton of gin

-Too elaborate/too many ingredients

-Contains mixers I don't have

There were a couple that were just too simple as well. For example, a Bucks Fizz contains orange juice and champagne--basically a fancy name for a mimosa. But finally I stumbled upon one that was simple but not too simple, contained no gin and made with items I had on hand. Success.

Brandy Fizz

adapted from The Savoy Cocktail Book

-2 oz. Brandy (I used Courvoisier)

-1 1/2 teaspoons powdered sugar

-Juice of half a lemon

Shake and strain over ice into a highball glass. Top with club soda. Garnish with a lemon wedge.

And there you have it. A perfectly refreshing summery cocktail. I found it sweet and tart with a beautiful syrupy caramel flavor lent by the Cognac. Normally I would use simple syrup for this sort of thing, but I decided that I would adhere to the recipe and use powdered sugar. In my early days of experimenting with cocktails, I tried to mix cocktails with granulated sugar and found it to be a great burden. I would be left with a fair amount of crystals at the bottom of whatever I was making.

At the time, I didn't have powdered sugar on hand so I put the effort into making simple syrup--a method that has worked for me ever since. But Heather, in all her culinary keenness, keeps a fair amount of powdered sugar on hand. I'm not sure if I can tell the difference, but I think I noticed a subtle smoothness in the sweet flavor of the cocktail--one that I will tinker with in the warm months ahead.