Helpers

Sometimes, I bring my computer into the kitchen. I put it on a chair that I also use as a step-stool, because even on my tippy-toes, five feet four inches (plus a very important half inch!) is not enough to reach the top shelf. The chair is mostly used, though, to balance my laptop. So many recipes come from the computer these days. There's obviously Epicurious. And also Orangette (speaking of, it was so exciting to meet Molly at her book-signing at the Ferry Building last night!). And over the years, my mom has typed up a treasure trove of family recipes (organized in a somewhat byzantine fashion with a major bias toward dessert).

Often, while the computer is in place, the chair is also used to hold Jackson, one of our cats. He thinks that by sitting on the keyboard and accidentally scrolling up or down in a recipe, he's helping.


He really likes being in the kitchen. He (mostly) knows that the counter is off limits, but roams freely through the rest of the space, sitting on the chair as above or occasionally batting at the hanging dried chiles from New Mexico. Jackson enjoys being near me while I'm in the kitchen, but he is also extremely interested in human food. Human food with the exception of anything citrus, that is, which makes him wrinkle his nose in disdain.

His brother Jasper is the fatter of the two but only, and I mean only, likes kibbles. Here's a skinny picture of him at his grandparents' house. Trust me, he has quite a belly in real life. At his annual check-up last December, he clocked in at thirteen (yes, thirteen!) pounds.


Jasper comes in and out while I'm cooking to check on the progress. I enjoy my two not-very-helpful kitchen companions, but my college roommate JB has a toddler-sized helper who is particularly enthralled by making pasta.



As JB has learned over the years she's known me, pasta is one of many food items that is often purchased at the store, but can also be made at home. While some families grew up with Bisquick and Campbell's, my mom's cooking, even on--believe it or not--camping trips, was very "from scratch." (Not coincidentally, "from scratch" is a phrase B used to describe me the first time I made French toast for him.) It was important to my mom to make things that other people bought at the grocery. The difference, to me, is that tortillas and crackers and marshmallows all CAN be made at home, but egg pasta is something that SHOULD be made at home (at least for special occasions).

Pasta-making is an impressive tool to store in your armamentarium. When completely fresh, egg noodles add a soft yet substantial texture to a celebratory pasta dish. Frozen, the noodles will stay for months, ready to jazz up any pasta dish in minutes! The ingredients are simple and logical, and the proportions of my Italian great-grandmother's pasta dough are tried and true. Getting the balance between flour and water right takes a little practice, but it is never to late to learn.

Most pasta dishes taste better with fresh egg noodles. Try the noodles tossed with a little bit of butter and Parm and basil pesto for an easy weeknight meal. Or, try the Pasta with Bagna Cauda I'm including below, which is a vegetarian adaptation of the cover recipe from Nancy Silverton's A Twist of the Wrist. The book has been critiqued for having hard-to-find ingredients, and some of the recipes aren't as quick as promised, but the cover recipe alone is worth the cost of the book.


I use capers instead of anchovies, and less butter, but keep the egg and the Parm and the wilted radicchio unchanged. Bagna cauda means "warm bath," per Nancy, and it is a luxurious sauce. Another recipe for the carbo kid, I guess.

Or a recipe for JB, now that she has a kitchen helper and knows the power of what can be made at home. Enjoy!

Egg Noodles (a.k.a. "Noo-noos" in toddlerspeak)
Makes approximately 1 lb pasta
Time: 30 min. active, 45 min. total

2 eggs
5/8 cup water
2 T. olive oil
dash salt
1 c. semolina flour
2-3 c. all-purpose flour

Mix eggs, water, olive oil, salt, semolina and 1 cup regular flour together in a large bowl with a wooden spoon. Continue adding flour 1/4 cup at a time until dough pulls away from sides of bowl and has a firm, not sticky, consistency. Let stand for 15 minutes before rolling out with pasta machine, ending with the second-thinnest setting. Use plenty of flour throughout! I use a hand-crank pasta machine, but JB uses the Kitchen-aid attachment. Run sheets of pasta through the fettuccine attachment to make noodles each about 10 inches long.

Pasta with Bagna Cauda
Adapted from Nancy Silverton's A Twist of the Wrist

Serves: 4 for main course, with leftovers
Time: 30 min active and total

1 lb. egg noodles
1/2 stick unsalted butter
1/4 c. plus 2 T. olive oil
1 T. capers
8 garlic cloves, smashed
1/4 c. finely chopped fresh Italian parsley leaves
grated zest and juice of 1/2 lemon
4 large eggs
12 radicchio leaves, torn into pieces
Parmesan, for grating

Bring a large pot of water to a boil over high heat and add a generous amount of kosher salt. Cook the fresh pasta for 4-5 min, depending on the thickness of your noodles, or until pasta starts to float. If in doubt, taste the pasta for doneness.

While the water is coming to a boil, make the bagna cauda. Heat the butter, 1/4 c. olive oil, capers, and garlic in a large skillet over medium-high heat until the garlic is soft and fragrant, about 2 minutes, stirring constantly so the garlic doesn’t brown. Turn off the heat, then stir in the parsley and lemon zest and juice. Season with salt and pepper to taste.

Heat the remaining 2 T. olive oil in a nonstick skillet over high heat for 2 to 3 minutes, until the oil is almost smoking. Break each egg and cook for about 1 1/2 min, until the edges are golden and crispy and the whites are set. Turn off the heat.

Use tongs to lift the pasta out of the water and transfer it quickly, while it’s still dripping with water, to the skillet with the bagna cauda. Place the skillet over high heat and add the radicchio. Toss to combine the ingredients and cook for a minute or two, until the radicchio wilts.

Serve pasta onto plates. Grate a generous layer of Parmesan cheese over each serving. Place one egg on each serving of pasta.

Salty Sweet

When I was in elementary school, we learned about four tastes. We even did a science project about which was where on the tongue: salty, sweet, bitter, and sour. I've forgotten the precise locations now. Much later, in college biochemistry, I learned for the first time about the elusive fifth taste, umami, relatively recently discovered by Japanese scientists. The name basically translates from the Japanese as "delicious," and interestingly the closest pure synthetic is the much-maligned MSG (also interestingly, the word umami is featured in the name of K and D's start-up; more on this in a future post when the website is out of alpha-testing).

And what, you might ask, combines all five of these tastes in perfect proportion? Ketchup! (Cue the ketchup jingle from A Prairie Home Companion. Maybe in addition to being delicious, umami is also a "natural mellowing agent?") More specifically, Heinz ketchup achieves the five-taste paradigm, according to Malcolm Gladwell's fascinating article in The New Yorker a few years ago.

But enough about ketchup. It's not like I'm going to offer a recipe for home-made ketchup today. There are some things that you should leave to the professionals! No, I want to focus on a combination of just two of the five essential flavors: salty and sweet. Much has been made recently of the combination, especially since word got out that Barack Obama likes Seattle's Fran's salted chocolate caramels. (Which, thanks to the generosity of A and K, we recently were able to sample. Let's just say that the flavor confirms that President Obama has good taste.)

Another way of combining the salty and sweet is in salted caramel ice cream. B thinks this might be the silkiest ice cream I make. The caramel offers depth and richness of flavor, and the salt adds a bright and impish twist! Every time I make it, I am astounded by the originality of taste. As a decadent dessert, I served salted caramel ice cream recently with this chocolate souffle cake (without the accompanying orange caramel sauce of the original Gourmet recipe), but it is equally delicious on its own. It may not be bitter or sour or umami, but it is a supreme expression of salty and sweet together. Enjoy!

Salted Caramel Ice Cream

Adapted from Bon Appetit, March 2001

Makes a generous quart

Time: 20 min active, 3 hours total

1 c. sugar

1/4 c. water

1 vanilla bean or 1 tsp. vanilla extract

2 c. heavy cream

1 c. milk (non-fat OK)

1 t. flaky salt, such as Maldon, with more for sprinkling

6 egg yolks

Place sugar and water into a medium-sized heavy saucepan; if using vanilla bean, slice lengthwise and scrape seeds into saucepan. Then add pod to saucepan as well. Cook over medium heat until mixture turns a deep golden-brown caramel, swirling pan occasionally. Remove from heat immediately (mixture may continue to darken another shade after being taking off the heat), and add milk and cream (mixture will bubble vigorously). Return to heat and stir frequently until caramel bits dissolve, approximately 2-3 minutes.

Place egg yolks in a medium bowl, and whisk hot milk-caramel mixture into yolks. Return entire mixture to saucepan and heat to 170-175 degrees on a candy thermometer. Strain through a fine-mesh sieve. Mix in 1 t. salt and vanilla extract, if using. Chill for 1 hour, covered. Freeze according to manufacturer's instructions, and then freeze completed ice cream for at least another hour before serving. Sprinkle each serving with a pinch of salt, to taste.

P.S. Can I just say that I love Daylight Saving Time? Short-term benefit: I had one less hour of call last night. Long-term benefit: it's still light outside! Win-win.

The Carbo Kid

To be fair, I had wondered ahead of time what would happen to my blog when I switched to a busy inpatient service and had to take frequent overnight call in the hospital. I started the blog in the relative peacefulness of December, where I worked from 8am to 5:30pm with weekends off, an easy month by resident standards (or a normal job by the standards of the rest of the world). This schedule left plenty of time for cooking and reading and writing (and keeping up with new episodes of my favorite show, "The Office"). Oh, how times have changed!

As the rainy, wintry days of February and March have rolled by, I've tried to continue cooking and reading, and occasionally spending time with B, but the writing, as you can see by the date of my last post, has fallen by the proverbial wayside. A friend who started, but later abandoned, a blog warned me about the guilt I would feel were I not to update my blog regularly. It's true! I could be planning our April vacation or picking out wedding photos or experimenting in the kitchen, but instead, a sense of responsibility has led me here.

1. To my anonymous readership: I apologize for my delinquency. Read on for a lovely recipe.

2. To our wedding photographer: I'm updating my blog right now instead of picking the final layout for the album. Yes, I do know that we're approaching our two-year anniversary. Also, if you were wondering, it makes me feel like a bad bride when you send me e-mails with the subject line "Wedding album, anyone?"

3. To Tivo: Thank you. There's nothing quite like snuggling up on the couch post-call to catch up on "The Daily Show." Your ability to ignore commercials contributes to my efficiency, and I love the beeps your remote control makes.

During these busier months, my cooking time is compressed, and the need for easy-to-transport leftovers is paramount. The cafeteria at San Francisco General, while free for residents, is monotonous and sort of depressing. Bringing my own dinner and plenty of snacks from Trader Joe's while I'm on call certainly makes me happier, and probably makes me healthier as well. The other day, I brought a few slices of potato pizza.

The herbed potatoes and the caramelized onions and the pizza crust complement each other to make each bite salty and sweet and substantial. Potato pizza is heavy on the carbohydrates, and I'm certain it would violate all sorts of principles of the Atkins diet. (But really, what kind of diet won't let you eat fruit? Nature's candy and all that.) For the MB diet, on the other hand, potato pizza is perfect. I grew up with the family nickname of the "carbo kid." I LOVED pasta and bread and potatoes, though, unlike a late-twenty-something friend of a friend, I was not pathologically tied to white food alone. Interestingly, despite my obsession with other carbohydrates, I didn't have a taste for pizza as a child (which, coupled with my dislike of watermelon, created difficulties at my elementary school classmates' birthday parties).

I've already mentioned my love of the Cheese Board cookbook, but I have two pizza-making revelations to share from my experimentation with their recipes. First, putting half the cheese directly onto the dough (then putting the topping on, followed by the rest of the cheese) makes bite after bite very cohesive and cheesy. Second, brushing the hot crust of the pizza right when it comes out of the oven with an olive oil and garlic/herb mixture releases an irresistible aroma and brightens up all the flavors. The recipe below calls for garlic oil, but feel free to use chopped fresh rosemary or another aromatic or a mixture. Whether your next pizza is potato or some other sort, please, please try these two techniques.

I always make my own pizza dough, and am including a very basic recipe that you can easily modify by substituting half whole-wheat flour, but you can also buy fresh pizza dough at most grocery stores. The pizza keeps well, covered, for 2 days, but the crust will always be the crunchiest and best the day you make it. Enjoy!

Potato Pizza

Adapted from The Cheese Board Collective Works

Makes: three 12-inch pizzas

Time: 45 min. active, 2 hours total

For the dough:

1 c. warm water

1/2 packet rapid-rise yeast

1 t. salt

2 T. olive oil

2-3 c. flour

For the pizza:

2 Yukon gold potatoes, thinly sliced (about 1/8 in.)

1 t. red pepper flakes, or more to taste

1 T. dried herbs, such as thyme, basil, oregano, or herbes de provence

5 T. olive oil, divided

1/2 yellow onion, finely sliced

1-2 T. cornmeal, for sprinkling

8 oz. mozzarella, grated

3/4 c. mixed Gruyere and Parmesan, grated

1 clove garlic, smashed

2 T. Italian parsley, finely chopped (optional)

First, make the pizza dough. Mix the water and yeast in a medium sized bowl and let sit for 5 minutes until slightly foamy. Add the salt, olive oil, and 1 cup of the flour, and mix with a wooden spoon until incorporated. Continue to add flour, 1/2 c. at a time, until you have a workable dough. Turn dough onto a board and knead, with extra flour as needed, for 5 min until smooth and elastic. Place dough in an oiled bowl, covered and in a warm place for 1 hour or until doubled.

Meanwhile, prepare the potatoes. Preheat the oven to 400 degrees. Place the sliced potatoes onto a parchment-lined baking sheet, slightly overlapping. Sprinkle with red pepper flakes, herbs, and salt to taste; then drizzle 2 T. olive oil evenly over potatoes. Bake for 20-25 min, until softened and beginning to brown. After the potatoes are done, turn the oven up to 450 degrees and pre-heat pizza stone if using.

While the potatoes are baking, prepare the caramelized onions. Heat another tablespoon of olive oil in a skillet over medium heat. Add the thinly sliced onions, and cook for 10 to 15 min, stirring frequently, until beginning to brown.

After the dough has risen, punch it down and divide into two halves. Place one half on a lightly-floured board and use a rolling pin to shape into a 12-in round. Place the round on a baking sheet or the hot pizza stone that has been sprinkled with cornmeal. Repeat with other half of dough. If making both pizzas at once, sprinkle each with one-quarter of the total mozzarella. Then divide the caramelized onions evenly between each pizza. Arrange the potato slices, slightly overlapping, on each pizza. Sprinkle with remaining mozzarella as well as Parmesan/Gruyere blend. Bake at 450 for 15-18 minutes, or until cheese is bubbling and crust is brown at the edges.

While the pizza is baking, make garlic oil with remaining 2 T. olive oil and smashed garlic clove. Brush hot pizza with garlic oil. Sprinkle with parsley, if using.

Of Climate and Change

I just went to Medicine Grand Rounds this week on the health effects of climate change. The upshot? Cows produce a lot of methane. (I know, I know. You thought this was a cooking blog! Just be patient.) Methane is a potent greenhouse gas. Greenhouse gases worsen global warming. Then, well, you know the rest: more tsunamis, more Katrinas, rising oceans, spread of tropical disease, etc.

The equation is simple: eat less meat, OR ELSE. (Michael Pollan would approve.) Veggies are best, fish is good, chicken is bad, red meat is worse. We must limit consumption of red meat, for the health of individuals (B's family has a history of heart disease) and of the environment and of future generations.

Today I offer a recipe in a vegetarian vein. (Technically, cheese also comes from cows and we should limit consumption of it as well, but this is a much more difficult step for me as I adore all forms of cheese, especially in this recipe.) Eggplant Parmesan is such an overdone dish that it took me years to try this recipe I ripped out of the Times Sunday Magazine. Eggplant Parm is on the menu of every second-rate Italian restaurant, and it's usually soggy and bland and cliched; it's something for the vegetarians in a group to order but does not promise anything other than the absence of meat. Notably, I have no great fondness for chicken parm either.

This eggplant Parm is different. It showcases each of the typical ingredients in a new way. And what an ingredient list! Eggplant and marinara and mozzarella and Parm and ricotta; truly, some of Italy's greatest hits. The dish is lively with acid and full of cheese (three types!) and as colorful as the Italian flag. You do have to start a little ahead of time with this one; I'm not usually one to release the bad humors from eggplant by salting and wiping, but this step ends up being crucial for the texture of the final rounds. Then give the rounds a quick dip in egg and panko, fry, and pop them into the oven with the cheese and sauce. Fresh basil leaves make a beautiful and tasty garnish.

It may not surprise you to learn that B asks for these "eggies" almost as frequently as he asks for enchies. Whether you make them as penance for a red meat meal the night before (a sort of carbon credit, I suppose) or whether you're already a committed vegetarian, enjoy!

Eggplant Parmesan

Adapted from The New York Times Magazine, April 2003

Serves: 4 as a main course or 6-8 as an appetizer

Time: 30 min active, 1 hour total

2 large Italian eggplants
1 c. all-purpose flour
1 T. dried oregano
2 eggs
1 cup panko bread crumbs
1 c. olive oil
1 ball (about 1 pound) fresh mozzarella
1 cup fresh ricotta
1 cup grated Parmesan cheese
fresh basil leaves, for garnish

For the marinara sauce:

1 T. olive oil

2-3 cloves garlic, crushed

1 28-oz can diced tomatoes, preferably San Marzano

1 t. salt

1 t. dried oregano

Slice the eggplant into 1/2 inch rounds. Use a 2.5-3 inch round cookie cutter to cut out the center of each round, and discard the skin. Lay rounds out on a cutting board and sprinkle with salt. Let eggplants sweat for 30 minutes, then pat dry.

Meanwhile, make the marinara sauce. In a 1.5 quart saucepan, heat the olive oil and garlic over medium heat. Add the tomatoes with the juice (carefully, as the oil can spatter), salt, and oregano, and simmer over medium-low heat for 20 minutes or until slightly reduced. Blend to desired consistency.

Preheat oven to 400 degrees. Mix flour and dried oregano, salt and pepper on a plate. Make egg wash by adding 1 tablespoon water to the eggs and beating with a fork in a small bowl. Spread bread crumbs on a separate plate. Heat 1/2 cup of oil in a skillet over medium heat until the surface ripples. Dust each eggplant rounds with the flour mixture and shake off the excess. Dip into the egg, drain off excess and then coat with the bread crumbs. Shake off excess crumbs and fry until brown on both sides, about 5 minutes total. Drain on paper towels and repeat, using more oil as needed. Depending on the size of your frying pan, this will take 2 or 3 cycles.

Slice the mozzarella into 1/4 inch pieces. Top each eggplant round with mozzarella. Mix the ricotta and Parmesan. Spread a tablespoon or so of ricotta mixture on top of each round and then cover with a tablespoonful of the marinara sauce. Bake until the mozzarella melts and is slightly browned, about 5 minutes. Garnish with fresh basil leaves.

Lazy Sunday

Sunday mornings are one of my favorite times of the week. All that extra time to sleep in, and then to lounge in bed just a little bit longer to read "Sunday Styles," and then to get up and lazily make something for breakfast at a time that would normally count as brunch but can safely still be called breakfast because it's on the weekend. Because of my limited days off and crazy February inpatient schedule, this is the first and last lazy Sunday morning of the month for me!

I had to make it count. I was pretty hungry by the time I made it to the kitchen, so I had to think of something quick but still delicious. I rejected scones because I make them all the time (though JB told me she was going to send along a recipe for a yummy raspberry version later today). No time for anything yeasted. What about some sort of vehicle for syrup? Hmm...not enough slightly-stale bread around for French toast. Waffles could be a possibility. Then, the aha! moment: time for pancakes, of the whole wheat variety.

It's not really fair to pigeonhole these pancakes in the syrup-vehicle category (though, really, who except B doesn't love maple syrup?) when they are so much more than that! The whole wheat flour adds texture and color. Plus, they're quick. A simple batter takes only five minutes to measure out and whisk up.

(B thinks this picture is unappealing, but I think it is very representative and thus worth including.) Then, a few more minutes on the stove, with plenty of butter in the frying pan, to ensure slightly crispy edges. (Aside: I love my Scanpan an irrational amount.)

Sometimes at this point, when they look so convincingly done, I think of that scene in one of the Ramona Quimby books when her parents are fighting, and her family isn't doing well economically, and for some reason they have pancakes for dinner one night. Ramona's really excited because pancakes for dinner sounds so exotic, but then her dad tells her mom that they're not done, and her mom says they are, and then her dad slices one open with the spatula and batter oozes out, because he was right and they really aren't done. Her mom storms off, and Ramona's almost as sad as the time when she had to use all the toothpaste that she squeezed out into the sink. Never fear, though, these are rather thin silver-dollar pancakes, and they are always done when they look done! Also, don't worry about Ramona and her parents; it all ends up working out by the end of the book (I can't quite remember--it may even be by the end of the chapter; would that all our current economic woes were to resolve so handily).

While the pancakes are frying, slice up some berries and lightly sugar them. Serve the pancakes with plenty of maple syrup on the side. Enjoy!

Whole Wheat Pancakes
Serves: 2 (if one of them is a big eater like B); makes about 25 silver-dollar pancakes

Time: 20 min active and total

1 egg
1 cup buttermilk
2 tablespoons butter, melted, plus extra butter to grease frying pan
3/4 cup whole wheat flour
1 tablespoon brown sugar
1 teaspoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon baking soda

Place all ingredients in a medium-sized bowl and whisk until dry ingredients are completely incorporated. Heat a large frying pan or griddle over medium heat. When hot, grease pan with an extra 1/2 T. of butter. Pour a generous tablespoon of batter into the pan to make each pancake. Cook for approximately 2 minutes, or until bubbles appear on the top and the bottom is browned around the edges, then flip and cook for 2 more minutes. Repeat with remaining batter, making sure to grease the pan each time.

P.S. A post titled "Lazy Sunday" wouldn't be complete without a link to this. Or, for you West-Coasters, this.

Fit for a King

Once upon a time--way back in the early 70s--there was a woman named A. (I don't actually know her name, so I picked the first letter of the alphabet.) She was in her twenties, and worked as a secretary in a busy research lab. She had a sad expression on her face a lot of the time. No one who worked with her knew why she was so very sad, but they suspected that her sadness was deep-seated and profound.

One day, my mom (who happened to be a lab technician in this same busy research lab back in the early 70s) asked A why she was so sad. Without much hemming and hawing, the story came out. It turned out that A had recently gotten divorced, which explained the sadness. And not just divorced at a young age, but divorced from the scion of the King Ranch in Texas. Unfortunately, she was now essentially penniless, having to work as a secretary to make ends meet.

"But," A said to my mom, "I do have a great recipe for enchiladas that they used to make at the King Ranch.

"It's literally the only thing of value I ended up with from the relationship."

The question, of course, remains whether this recipe was valuable enough. Not personally knowing A, but having personally consumed a lot of these delicious chicken enchiladas in my lifetime, I have to say her nasty, brutish, and short marriage was worth it! (Especially since A eventually realized her dream of going to law school, and remarried, and had several children.)

The enchiladas are like no enchilada you've had before. The filling is creamy, the cheese topping slightly crunchy, and the flavor piquant. They take a while to make, but they are definitely worth it. The recipe is easy to double, just by putting everything into a 9x13 in pan instead. Also, they freeze pretty well, or you can make them 24 hours ahead of time just up to the point where you pop them into the oven, and then refrigerate them to bake later. A few other cook's notes: when you boil the chicken breast, add some garlic, tomato, carrot, and onion to the water, and then you'll have some good chicken stock around for other recipes. Also, I substitute a whole red bell pepper if I don't have pimientos around, and saute that with the onions. I frequently serve the enchiladas with black beans.

My med school friends used to clamor for the "enchies," and now B does on a regular basis. I have given out the recipe to a lot of people (one of whom rather excessively doubled the cream cheese!), but I feel the obligation to tell even more of you through this blog, sort of like the internet gospel of that $250 Neiman Marcus cookie recipe. Feel free to disseminate further, and enjoy.

King Ranch Chicken Enchiladas

Serves: 2-3 people

Time: 30 min active, 2 hours total

FILLING:
1 large chicken breast (whole), boiled until tender, cooled, and diced
1/4 pound low-fat (not non-fat) cream cheese, softened
1 large onion, sauteed in 1 tablespoon olive oil until softened
2 tablespoons pimientos
1/2 teaspoon salt

6-7 corn tortillas, each softened in hot oil (cool on a plate before handling)
1 1/2-2 cups extra sharp cheddar cheese
1/2 can Herdez salsa casera or other salsa
1/4 cup milk or cream

Mix filling ingredients together; set aside. Add approximately 1/4 cup to center of each tortilla. Bring sides over so that they overlap and place seam side down in a lightly-greased 9x9 inch pan. Repeat for remaining filling. Top each with salsa and cheese; pour milk or cream over. Cover with aluminum foil and bake in preheated 350 oven for 15-20 minutes. Uncover and bake until bubbly, approximately 15 minutes longer.

P.S. Sorry there are no pictures! I made these the other night right up to the popping in the oven, so that B could bake them for dinner while I was stuck in the hospital overnight on call. The enchies were already decimated by the time I got to them the next day. Next time I make them I promise I'll take a pic and post it.

P.P.S. More milk and meat mixed together. Sorry, JB.

Casado

B was away again this weekend, of course with his cycling team. Which, as I've discussed before, always makes me a little bit sad and lonely. This time, I didn't even appreciate the chance to sleep diagonally because I didn't sleep well at all. I think I was nervous about coming back to inpatient medicine and being on call after a really lovely vacation in Costa Rica. Here's B's favorite orchid that we saw in the cloud forest at Monteverde:

The hot springs at Tabacon are pretty amazing too, though the top of the Arenal volcano was continually enshrouded with clouds while we were there. Imagine 102 degree water and warm mist and many other pools and rivers to explore nearby when you look at the picture below.

I don't have any fun pictures of Playa Ocotal on the Pacific coast, but that was great too. We went diving one day and saw eagle rays and baby sharks and sososo many pufferfish. We loved the flying devil rays we saw from the boat too!

This is really supposed to be a blog about cooking, so I guess I should mention the meal we ate approximately once a day: casado with batido. Casado, as you Spanish linguists may know, literally means "married," but in Costa Rica also refers to a typical plate of rice, beans, usually chicken, fried plantain or banana, and salad; a perfectly filling and well-rounded lunch! Batido is a thin milkshake made with fresh fruit, and particularly delicious when made with blackberry (mora). Sometime soon I'm planning a Latin-inspired feast, and fried plantains (patacones) will definitely be making an appearance.

Anyway, we got back from our trip and B went away for a few more days to ride his bike while I got to contemplate the end of vacation. Which left me the aforementioned slightly sad, lonely, and nervous. I was, however, excited about the chance to make spaghetti carbonara while mi casado was gone. B, after all, doesn't really like pork. Or, more accurately, doesn't like identifiable pork, which means he'll eat it when chopped up into little bits (imperial rolls) or when heavily sauced (pulled pork sandwiches), but doesn't like pork chops or Italian bacon or pork tenderloin. And he definitely wouldn't like the recent-craze-inspiring bacon explosion. But I count myself lucky, as the list of foods that B didn't like when we met has shrunk significantly. (Some of these deficiencies were easy to correct. I mean, who doesn't like avocados? He clearly hadn't really tried them.)

I wouldn't call myself a true pork afficionado. I don't scout out the best San Francisco salumi like our friend D, though I admit that I have sent bacon as a gift more than once. And I do really like the little crunchy bits of pancetta involved in spaghetti carbonara. I also like the brightness of the parsley and the richness of the egg yolk and the creaminess of the, well, cream. Not a dish for the kosher among us; JB points out that you can't really avoid the milk/meat mixing. However, this is a great weeknight dish and heats up well as leftovers. Serve with a quick salad of Mesclun greens with lemon-olive oil-thyme dressing and you're all set for dinner! Assuming, of course, that YOUR casado likes pork.

Spaghetti Carbonara

Adapted from Pasta Fresca

Serves: 2 with leftovers

Time: 20 min active, 30 min total

1/4 pound pancetta, thinly sliced; then diced

2 cloves garlic, smashed

1/2 t. red pepper flakes

1 T. olive oil

2 egg yolks

3 T. cream

1 c. grated Parmesan (about 3 oz.)

1/4 c. Italian parsley, finely chopped

3/4 pound spaghetti, such as De Cecco

In a large heavy saucepan, heat the olive oil over medium heat until ripples form. Add the pancetta, garlic, and red pepper flakes and saute until pancetta is rendered and crispy, keeping in mind that the pancetta will continue to cook in the hot oil for a minute or two after the heat is turned off.

Meanwhile, cook the spaghetti in salted boiling water until al dente. Mix together the yolks, cream, and 3/4 c. Parmesan in a small bowl. You can mix the pasta, the egg mixture, and the parsley with the pancetta in the large saucepan. Sprinkle with remaining 1/4 c. Parmesan and serve with even more.