Sweet Potato-Banana Empanadas

I brought these little guys last night to a dinner party at my friends Nick and Lydia's house, and as soon as I presented them we began chatting about the meaning of empanadas throughout various cultures of the world. Nick and Lydia are my very smart, graduate student friends with whom conversations naturally turn to the socioeconomic, cultural-linguistic aspects of anything placed on the table, literally or otherwise. The conclusions we reached about empanadas were these: in Latin America and Spain, an empanada can mean any variety of (usually meat-filled) doughy pocket, while in the US, empanadas are a tasty reminder of a certain guilty microwavable pleasure many of us subsisted on at some point in our pasts: the hotpocket. They are similar to the Indian samosa in concept, yet the dough can be anywhere from crusty and dense, to light and flaky. We decided that any and all liberties can be taken with the empanada, however the one requisite for calling something as such is that it have the fork imprints that seal it shut. This one has sweet potatoes, a banana, and some shredded coconut bound up in a no-nonsense whole-wheat-coconut oil crust. The kind of empanada you could maybe throw together on a weeknight if you had another set of hands for filling and sealing them, or were just feeling overly ambitious. I waited until the weekend.

I served these with the exceptional roasted tomato-chipotle salsa from Primavera, perhaps enough of a reason to convince all my friends in other parts of the country to move to the Bay Area.

Makes about ten largish empanadas

Sweet Potato-Banana Empanadas

1 Tbsp coconut oil
2 shallots, diced
1 pound of sweet potatoes, peeled and cut into a 1/2 inch dice, then cooked for a few minutes in boiling water
1 banana, cut into a similar dice
1 tsp cinnamon
1/4 cup unsweetened shredded coconut
2 Tbsp chopped cilantro

2 1/2 cups whole-wheat pastry flour
1/4 cup coconut oil, softened
3/4 cup boiling water
1/2 tsp salt

Heat the oven to 450 F. In a medium skillet, heat the coconut oil over medium heat until melted, and add the shallots. Cook for a few minutes until translucent, and add the sweet potatoes, banana, cinnamon, and a pinch of salt, cooking for another couple of minutes. Once the oven is hot, pour the coconut into a baking pan in an even layer and place in the oven to toast for a few minutes, stirring once through, until nice and brown.

Combine all of the dough ingredients in a bowl and knead until it forms a soft dough. Turn the dough out onto a clean surface and work into a long cylinder, then cut the dough into ten disks. Roll each disk out to form a saucer-sized, flat circle, and place about 1/4 a cup of filling in the center. Fold the sides of the dough over to form a half moon, then press each empanada shut with a fork. Repeat with the remaining filling and dough.

Oil two baking sheets with the coconut oil (or cooking spray) and place the empanadas on them, brushing the tops with a little melted coconut oil. Bake for about 10 minutes, turning once through, until golden.

Gnocchi with Caramelized Leeks, Summer Squash, and Saffron Cream

HOT DAMN. While I may be at risk of sounding a little haughty, this is one of those dishes that will get a reaction out of whoever you're serving it to. When my boyfriend came home from work today at around 8 o' clock, I immediately handed him a bowl of this and all sorts of exclamatory phrases started leaving his mouth. The combination of the caramelized leeks (so sweet--so freaking tasty), "butter-scallop" squash (I couldn't resist buying these entirely based on the name), and beautifully hued saffron cream made for an intensely rich meal that made me feel like I was just almost overdoing it in the dairy department. Almost like eating dessert for dinner. But not really, because tomorrow I will eat a bunch of salad and all the damage will be undone. Until next time.
(note: the gnocchi was totally good, but I think a whole-wheat spaghettini or maybe some orecchiette would be excellent with this sauce)

Gnocchi with Caramelized Leeks, Summer Squash, and Saffron Cream

1 package of whole-wheat or regular gnocchi
3-4 pinches saffron threads
2 medium leeks, cleaned and chopped
1 Tbsp butter
4 smallish summer squash, sliced 1/4 inch thick
3/4 cup of heavy whipping cream
salt and freshly ground pepper
chopped basil, for garnish

Heat a heavy skillet over medium heat and toast the saffron, stirring often, until fragrant. Set aside on a plate to cool.

Add the butter and the leeks and a pinch of salt to the pan and saute, stirring occasionally, until golden brown, about 10 minutes. Add the summer squash and continue to stir until the squash is al dente. Add the cream and the toasted saffron and cook for another minute or so. Turn off the heat and keep warm.
In the meantime, bring a large pot of salted to a boil and add the gnocchi. As soon as they start to rise, drain them well and add them to the cream sauce. Taste and season. Sprinkle with some chopped basil and serve.

Freezing Spring Day Panzanella Salad

I've neglected this blog for far too long. Every time I open my refrigerator and a magic moment of inspiration hits me, I kick myself for being too lazy to even pick up my camera or bother to remember if I've put sugar or salt in the mix. But everyone needs a break now and then, including myself, and not to sound like I've been doing bigger and better things than keeping a food journal, but I have had a LOT of things on my plate, so to speak.

Things have calmed down in the last week or so, and the best thing about this time of year by far is sending the same old boring vegetables on a four-or-so-month-long vacation and welcoming the new ones in with open arms. Just today, I got an entire pound of blueberries delivered to me in my CSA bag and I'm pretty sure that this was the final push I needed to put me back on the blogging course. Of course, the crisp zucchini, cucumbers, strawberries, spinach, and fava beans certainly didn't hurt. And as long as we keep getting all this stellar produce, I can't say that I mind the dreary weather or the fact that I'm still wearing my winter coat every other day. It is an excellent excuse to stay inside and keep toasty while the oven is roaring and this panzanella salad is in the making. I've got nothing to complain about.

Freezing Spring Day Panzanella Salad

1 lb loaf of crusty whole-wheat bread, preferably day-old
1 clove of garlic, minced
1 pint of cherry or plum tomatoes, halved
2 medium zucchini, cut into quarters and then cut into thin slices
a few Tbsp of olive oil
a couple of pinches of salt and pepper
1 pound of fava beans, shelled, boiled in salted water for a few minutes, drained, then individually peeled

Lemon-Herb Dressing

juice and zest of one lemon
1/4 cup olive oil
1/4 cup packed basil leaves
1/4 cup packed mint leaves
one garlic clove, minced
a little sugar or honey, optional
a pinch each of salt and cayenne

Preheat the oven to 350 F. To make the salad, cut the the loaf of bread into 1-2 inch pieces. Don't worry about getting each cube the same size. This dish is supposed to be rustic! Toss with a little olive, salt and the garlic and place in a single layer on a baking sheet and pop in the oven for 15-20 minutes, or until the bread is nice and dry.

Toss the cherry tomatoes with some olive oil and salt and lay cut side down on another baking sheet. Do the same thing with the zucchini slices. Once the bread is done drying, place it in a bowl and use the same pan for the zucchini slices. Roast the tomatoes until they are shriveled and bubbling, about 30 minutes, and the zucchini until its nice and brown on the bottom, turning once throughout.

While the vegetables are roasting, make the dressing. Place all of the ingredients in a food processor and pulse until smooth. Taste and add a little sugar if you think it's too tart. Once the vegetables are done roasting, toss them with the bread and the cooked fava beans and mix in the dressing.

Serves 2-3.

Farro Salad with Mandarins, Beets, and Arugula Blossoms

Last Saturday's trip to the farmer's market was definitely a trip into the wonderful world of spring. It's strange; I totally thought it was still winter until I saw the bounties of asparagus, green garlic, and artichokes piled high at seemingly every stand. I snatched up more vegetables than could ever fit into my meager vegetable bin, but luckily, I also went into a cooking frenzy that lasted all weekend and used up just about everything I had bought. The asparagus soup was divine, but perhaps even more special was this lovely little salad that combined the best of late winter with the highlights of early spring, and by that I mean blossoms.

Edible blossoms, you say? I'm not just talking about the edible flowers that you sometimes come across in salad mixes or on top of wedding cakes; I'm talking about the little blossoms that sprout out of the stalks of edible greens right around this time of year. This salad uses a delicate combination of darling arugula blossoms, roasted golden beets, super-sweet mandarins, and a fresh-tasting chive dressing all over a bowl of nutty farro. These are weird vegetables at their finest, and I the opportunity to sample these peppery little blossoms knocks at whatever part of the world you are in. Look for other blossoms as well and don't be intimidated--they taste and look good with just about anything you want to throw them in.

Farro Salad with Mandarins, Beets, and Arugula Blossoms
Serves 6-8 as a side dish, fewer as a main course

2 cups farro, rinsed
2 small bunches or 1 large bunch of golden beets, peeled and cut into orange-sized slices
1 Tbsp olive oil
salt and pepper
3 mandarin oranges, segmented
a handful of arugula blossoms

1 bunch of chives
1 small shallot, chopped
juice and zest of 1 lemon
1-2 Tbsp water
1/2 cup olive oil
salt and pepper, to taste

Preheat the oven to 375 F. Combine the farro with 4 cups of lightly salted water and bring to a boil over medium heat. Reduce heat and cover, simmering for 30 minutes or longer, until the farro is tender and chewy. Semi-pearled farro will take a lot less time, but be mindful to check every so often to see if it's done. Drain any excess water and set aside.

While the farro is cooking, roast the beets. Combine the beet slices with 1 Tbsp of olive oil and a sprinkle of salt and pepper. Toss to combine and transfer to a baking sheet in an even layer. Roast for 30 minutes or so, flipping halfway through, until the beets are lightly caramelized.

To make the dressing, combine the shallot and the chives and the lemon in a food processor and pulse until it forms a paste. You may need to add a little water in order to puree it. Slowly pour in the olive oil and process again until well combined with the other ingredients. Add salt and pepper to taste.

Combine the cooked farro, the roasted beets, the mandarins, and the dressing in a large bowl and toss well. Sprinkle with the arugula blossoms on top. Beautiful, picture-perfect food!

Lemony Asparagus-Rice Soup

A couple weeks ago, I counted the number of career paths I have considered within the last year, and let's just say I needed two hands to count all of them. And the worst of it is, in some way or another, I'm pursuing all of them. What if I decide I want to be a yoga teacher in five years? I'd better practice yoga now. And what if someday I want to open a restaurant? I should really acquire some entrepreneurial skills quickly and take a small business course. Is what they call being paralyzed by too many options? What if I decide I want to be a working photojournalist? Okay, you get the idea.

With my head in some many different places at the same time, it's no wonder I have so little time for the things I really enjoy that will never pay my rent, like cooking and inventing new recipes and writing about them. I'm ashamed to say I've been relying on the taqueria by my house for quick meals that only encourage this lack of focus, so I rarely cook anything that is worthy of sharing to the public at large, let alone two things in one day! But yesterday, as the honey-kumquat scones were in the oven I thought I'd try and invent something magical with the few (yet stellar) ingredients I had on hand: a bunch of pencil-thin, organic asparagus from the farmer's market, a lemon, a shallot or two, and some fresh chives. Coupled with a little brown rice and some grana padano, I can safely say this is one of the best soups I've had in recent memory, and I owe it all to the asparagus lady who pressured me into buying one more thing that wouldn't fit into my vegetable drawer.

Lemony Asparagus-Rice Soup
Serves 3-4

3 shallots, minced
2 Tbsp olive oil
1/2 cup short grain brown rice, rinsed
5 cups vegetable broth
12-15 asparagus stalks, ends cut off, cut into two inch pieces on the diagonal
the juice and zest of one lemon, preferably Meyer
2 Tbsp snipped chives
salt and freshly ground pepper, to taste
grated grana padano or parmigiano, to taste

In a large heavy stockpot, saute the shallots over medium heat until they start to soften, about three minutes. Stir in the rice and broth and slowly bring to a boil. Simmer until the rice is almost tender, about 35 minutes.

Add the asparagus pieces and cook until just tender, about 3 more minutes. Add the lemon zest and juice and season with salt and pepper. Spoon into individual bowls and garnish with the chives and the cheese, to taste. Drizzle with a little extra olive oil to add a grassy finish.

Honey-Kumquat Scones

Scones are one of those foods that I associate with mediocrity. It feels like whenever I walk into a cafe, peer into the glass case containing an array of dried-out baked goods, scones are among the last things I would ever order. And on the few occasions that I ever attempted to make scones, they would start tasting stale immediately after I pulled them from the oven. So what is it about scones that makes them difficult to get right? I think that more often than not, scones aren't made with enough wet ingredients, so they come out hard and dry and that's just what we've come to expect of them.

In the back of my mind, I think I was searching for the perfect scone recipe that would yield a tender, flaky scone that I had only ever dreamt of, but I didn't know where to start. Should I add milk? Oil? Fruit juice? Tons of butter? I was starting to lose hope of my dream, then I stumbled upon a few scone recipes made with whipped cream, all of which got rave reviews. Though I had my doubts, it seemed like it made sense as a way to give a light and fluffy texture to scones that were otherwise dense and dry. To give them a little more flair, I decided to sweeten them with a combination of honey and finely chopped kumquats, which are still coming into our markets by the truckload. And what a triumph these turned out to be! I will never waste my bite on crappy, overly dry scones again! Just be sure to take sure to take these out of the oven as soon as they're golden--they will seem crumbly, but take them out anyway. mine took about 30 minutes. Feel free to play around with these. The kumquats work nicely, but I imagine that any not-overly-juicy fruit would work here too.

Honey-Kumquat Scones
Makes eight large scones

2 cups whole-wheat pastry flour or all-purpose flour, plus more for dusting
3 tsp baking powder
1/4 tsp salt
3/4 cup finely chopped kumquats (about 10 large, or 15 small)
1 cup heavy whipping cream
1/2 cup honey
1 Tbsp melted butter
1 Tbsp brown sugar

Preheat the oven to 350 F. Line a baking sheet with parchment paper and set aside.

Combine the flour, baking powder and salt in a large bowl and mix well. Stir in the kumquats and set aside.

In medium bowl, beat the whipping cream until it doubles in volume and is nice and fluffy. Beat in the honey until well incorporated into the whipping cream. Fold into the dry mixture until it just forms a nebulous mass. Don't worry if some parts seem lumpier than others.

Turn out the mixture on a lightly floured surface and knead a few times until it forms a ball. Flatten the dough out into a rustic, 8-inch circle and place on the baking sheet. Brush with the butter and sprinkle with the brown sugar. Cut the scones into eight even pieces, but do not pull them apart yet.

Bake for 30 minutes or so (begin to check at around 25), until the scones are golden and brown on the bottom. Remove them from the oven and let them sit for a few minutes before pulling apart into the pre-cut slices.

Red Potato and Plantain Salad with Ancho-Citrus Vinaigrette

Why is it that orange-tinted food is so universally unattractive? Is it because it reminds us of the ungodly substance that comes the wrong out of our bellies and can't be mentioned in a food blog? This is not only orange, but chunky. Double disgusting. But if you're still with me after I've bashed the aesthetic value of this dish, let me continue by talking up the taste of this Mexican-inspired potato salad. Spicy. Smoky. Citrusy. Cuminy. All the things you don't generally expect from a potato salad, and without a drop of mayonnaise in sight (actually, I don't even own a jar of mayonnaise, as I prefer the lighter, in some ways fluffier, vegannaise.). The star of this salad is the couple of pounds of red potatoes I got in my most recent CSA bag, along with a couple of plantains, a red onion, plenty of lovely citrus flavor, and a can of black beans, which makes it into more of a complete meal than a simple side dish. And plenty of pretty cilantro on top makes it into something you might actually want to look at. See? It isn't so bad, after all.

Red Potato and Plantain Salad with Ancho-Citrus Vinaigrette

5 medium red potatoes
2 unripe plantains
1 can of black beans, rinsed and drained
1 small red onion, minced

zest and juice of two oranges
zest and juice of one lime
1 Tbsp apple cider vinegar
1/4 cup olive oil
1 Tbsp ancho chile powder
1 Tbsp smoked paprika
1 tsp ground cumin
2 Tbsp chopped cilantro
3 garlic cloves, halved
salt, to taste

Minced cilantro, for garnish

To peel the plantains, halve each plantain and cut the ends off. Make a slit on the inner edge of the halves, and carefully peel the skin away. Place in a large pot with the potatoes and cover with salted water. Gently bring to a boil, then turn down the heat to a simmer until the potatoes and plantains are tender-firm.

Remove from the water and let sit for a few minutes until cool enough to handle. Cut the plantains in half lengthwise, then cut into 1/2 inch chunks. Cut the potatoes into bite-sized pieces. Place in a bowl with the red onions and black beans and set aside.

Combine all the remaining ingredients in a food processor and puree. Pour over the potato mixture and taste for seasoning. Set aside at room temperature until the flavors develop, about 3 hours. Garnish with the cilantro.