Top Veg

Do you watch Top Chef? I've been a fan since the show premiered six seasons ago, and although I haven't found the show as interesting as I did during it's first few seasons, I continue to watch because despite the entertainment deficit, the talent's stock has definitely gone up (not to mention that even at its worst, it's light years better than all of the other food competition shows--I'm looking at you Next Food Network Star). After a few seasons of ho-hum contestants and no clear front-runners, this season's cast boasts several executive chefs, James Beard Award nominees, and a duo of DC-area brothers whose dishes never disappoint. The cast runs fairly young, but you wouldn't know it from their performance and the sophisticated dishes many of them churn out week after week. There's finally been a clear top few since this season began, and those in that limited club have rarely faltered.

That was of course until the most recent episode last week. The gang was asked to cook a great meal for a special guest at head judge Tom Colicchio's Las Vegas resto CraftSteak. They all immediately began plotting how to attack a meat heavy menu when in typical reality show fashion, they sprung vegan shoe designing vegetarian Natalie Portman on the disappointed pack. Somehow managing to make gorgeous, seasonal produce look like overcooked side dishes from The Sizzler, chef after chef presented poorly executed, poorly thought out dishes to the diners. While I am generally quite the fan of meaty meals, I take my vegetables seriously as well. I typically make 2-3 vegetarian dinners a week that do a perfectly good job of leaving me full and satisfied while also being tasty (if I do say so myself). How most of these chefs failed to manage that with far more at their fingertips than is available to me on any given day is a mystery. While the chefs were bombarded with their true mission minutes before executing, I can't believe that so many of them managed to completely forget that by losing their meat element they were also losing protein, an integral part of any dish, vegetarian or not. While I'm not a chef, I do know that when I'm planning a meatless meal I do my best to incorporate a protein and a starch any way I can--it's really balance that's key for any hearty and satisfying meal, regardless of whether there's meat. Fall is actually a great time for healthy, filling vegetarian meals since we have everything from brussels sprouts and beets to squash, pomegranate and eggplant, not to mention all types of potatoes. I like to take braising greens to task since there's an abundance of kale, collards and swiss chard, not to mention beet, turnip and mustard greens this time of year. I'm shocked that not one chef used legumes (well...one tried, but her fresh garbanzo beans were a flop) since they not only pair extremely well with greens, but are packed full of protein. There was just one risotto on the side and no fresh pasta at all, both starches being excellent potential platforms for all of that fresh produce.

And so, last week, inspired by the Top Chef challenge I made what I think is a tasty and filling vegetarian dinner of kale, chick peas and turnips. I served it with a side of couscous and some crunchy oven roasted brussels sprouts to start (if you leave them in there long enough they'll crisp up into crunchy, rotund chips, like over-sized wasabi peas). This is a fast and affordable take on Kevin's winning dish, which consisted of a mushroom duo with smoked kale and a candied ginger and turnip puree. Having received both kale and turnips in my CSA it was the perfect inspiration. Trying to use only what was in my fridge and pantry (since I certainly cannot afford morels and they're out of season anyway) I decided to make one hearty dish that consisted of the kale, turnips and a can of chick peas (but white beans or even lentils would have been tasty too!) sauteed with garlic and accented with a little apple cider vinegar. It turned out great and I can definitely say that I was stuffed afterward. Here's my final recipe, and here's hoping that the final six on the show catch some wind in their sails, because I expect more!

Sauteed Kale with Turnips and Chick Peas

1 lb kale, stems removed and leaves chopped
3 medium sized turnips, peeled and roughly diced, greens also chopped
1 15 oz can chickpeas (or cooked dried chickpeas) drained and rinsed
2 large garlic cloves, thinly sliced
3 Tbsp apple cider vinegar
extra virgin olive oil (about 3 Tbsp)
1 Tbsp butter
salt
black pepper

1. Heat olive oil, butter and garlic in a large, non-stick skillet. Cook on medium low heat 30 seconds (garlic should not brown) then add turnips. Cook until just starting to soften, about 2 minutes.

2. Add kale in batches until it all fits in the pan. Season generously with salt and black pepper, then add chick peas, cider vinegar and turnip greens, tossing to coat. Continue cooking on medium heat, tossing occasionally until kale is cooked, another 2-3 minutes. Taste for seasoning and adjust accordingly (kale often needs a lot more salt and acid than other greens). Enjoy!

-Laura

More Than A Sausage

One of the things I love about the greenmarket is that there's much more than just fruits and veggies there. On any given Saturday there can be a number of unexpected natural products on sale, from hides, to soap, and even merino lambs wool. I've bought a lot of meat products at a few of the stands (mostly pork) and I've always made it a point to stop by the seafood stand to see what's freshest catch that day (I often make it too late and miss out on the good stuff). Last weekend I spotted one of the chefs from Craft (Tom Colicchio's restaurant) scooping up huge boxes of heirloom tomatoes and other fresh veggies. By the time I ran into him on my way home, his huge cart chock full of fresh seasonal ingredients put my overflowing canvas bag to shame. But then again, I'm just feeding myself for a week.

One stand that I'm guessing the chef did not visit is the one that sells merino wool. Although it's enveloped in yarn and sheepskin rugs, occasionally there's a sign that hangs over the stand announcing the arrival of sausage. I usually buy from the same purveyor, but the lovely ladies with the merino wool won me over. I was disappointed to find that my normal supplier was out of merguez sausage (again!), so I sauntered over to the merino wool ladies and found that they had an entire fridge of the stuff. I'd had a craving for it for months and was having trouble finding some, so I quickly snatched up a few rolls. Merguez is a North African sausage (particularly popular in Morocco) that's just teaming with spices, both hot and fragrant. From paprika to cayenne and cinnamon, there's a whole lot of flavor in one merguez sausage, and each one is different. It doesn't always have to be super spicy, but it often contains harissa, so there is definitely the possibility of lots of spice. I personally like the sweet and spicy factor that's rare in most sausages that aren't served for breakfast.

I served my merguez over couscous after grilling and quickly braising it. I added some chickpeas and sun-dried tomatoes to the braising liquid, which worked out really well. The sun-dried tomatoes plumped up in the warm broth and the chickpeas added great flavor and texture to the couscous. There was a little extra braising liquid which kept the whole dish nice and moist. This would be an amazing quick dinner for a busy night, since it really only took 15-20 minutes to make from start to finish. You could definitely put more veggies into the braising liquid, including frozen ones (carrots, peas, and even asparagus would be delicious). I also put in some olives (mostly as a garnish) for a nice briny contrast to the sweetness and heat of the sausage. Here's what I did to make mine:

Quick Braised Merguez with Couscous and Chickpeas

8 merguez sausage links
1 (15 oz) can chickpeas, drained and rinsed
1/2 cup sun-dried tomatoes, sliced
2 cups chicken or vegetable broth, divided
1 cup couscous (I used vegetable flavored)
1 Tbsp unsalted butter
1 Tbsp olive oil
vegetable oil
salt
pepper

1. Cook sausage in a skillet on medium-high heat until browned on both sides. Lower heat to medium and add 1 cup broth, sun-dried tomatoes and chickpeas. Cook covered until sausages are cooked through, about 7 minutes.

2. Meanwhile, bring remaining 1 cup of broth, butter and olive oil to a boil. Add couscous, season with salt, and cook until couscous is ready, about 5-7 minutes or according to your package directions.

3. Plate couscous and top with sausage, chickpea and sun-dried tomato mixture. Garnish with roughly chopped olives. Enjoy!

-Laura

Green Envy

I was a bit of an odd bird as a child where food was concerned. I wasn't partial to hating anything, loved trying whatever the grown-ups were eating, and generally laughed in the face of a children's menu. Although I was always reprimanded for trying to join in on the grown-up conversation, (and repeatedly told to get back to my crayon drawings) I wanted nothing more than to dine on great food while participating in sophisticated adult conversation. Whether this is the product of my being an only child or that of my environment is debatable, but what's for certain is that to this day, I still eat pretty much everything.

Unlike many kids, I never had to be reminded to eat my veggies or my greens since they were usually eaten before I could get my plate to the table. Back then I ate everything methodically and in shifts, starting with one thing on the plate and not moving on to the next until I'd finished it. Even though my mother told me that to really get a feel for a meal you should alternate, I couldn't be convinced. If we were eating something I loved, like a big juicy t-bone, I'd devour all of the sides so that the last thing I tasted before finishing the meal was a perfect piece of steak. Although I've since stopped using this method (for the most part, anyway), I still make it a point to eat all those vegetables detested by children the world over.

One of my favorites are greens and chick peas. There's a very common Spanish meal of greens with chickpeas and codfish, often consumed on Fridays during lent or for Sunday supper. I purchased a big bunch of rainbow Swiss chard during my recent trip to the farmers market, but didn't have any cod or other white fish on hand. The selection was poor at both my local supermarket and at the fishmonger, so I decided to go searching for a simpler recipe without fish. It was just my luck that I'd marked a delicious recipe for oven roasted chick peas with Swiss chard in the January issue of Bon Appétit. I didn't have quite as much chard as the recipe called for, but fortunately I was able to use the beet greens from the lovely purple beets I bought this weekend.

I must say that I was shocked to witness 9 out of 10 people purchasing beets asking for the greens to be cut off and discarded. Sacrebleu! This, my friends, is culinary sacrilege. Not only are you throwing out delicious greens that you're paying for, but you're also tossing out a healthy superfood that's easy to prepare. If you don't like sauteed greens you can always add them to soups or use them to make vegetable stock. Instead of tossing mine out, I tossed them in with my Swiss chard and chick peas for extra color and even deeper flavor. The dish was so delicious I wish I'd thought of it myself. The chick peas were crunchy and delicious and the greens took on a sweet, slow cooked flavor (thanks to the roasted garlic and fennel). This would be a great side but an even better vegetarian main dish--it could even work over rice or mixed with pasta. Here's the recipe directly from the magazine:


Roasted Garbanzo Beans and Garlic with Swiss Chard

Garbanzo Beans:
2 15.5-ounce cans garbanzo beans (chickpeas), drained (about 3 cups)
10 garlic cloves, peeled
2 large shallots
3 small bay leaves, preferably fresh
1 teaspoon fennel seeds
1 1/4 cups extra-virgin olive oil

Chard: 2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
6 garlic cloves, peeled,
crushed 3 small bay leaves, preferably fresh
2 shallots, sliced
2 bunches Swiss chard, center stems cut out, leaves coarsely torn
2 cups low-salt chicken broth

Garbanzo beans: Preheat oven to 350°F. Combine first 5 ingredients in an 8 x 8 x 2-inch glass baking dish. Sprinkle with salt and pepper. Pour oil over; cover dish with foil. Roast until garlic is tender, about 45 minutes.

Chard: Heat oil in large pot over medium-high heat. Add garlic, bay leaves, and shallots. Cover; cook until shallots are tender, about 2 minutes. Uncover; add half of chard. Toss until chard wilts and volume is reduced by half, about 2 minutes. Add remaining chard. Toss until chard wilts, about 2 minutes. Add broth. Cover and cook until chard is tender, stirring occasionally, about 10 minutes. Season chard with salt and pepper. Transfer chard mixture to large sieve set over bowl and drain. Drain garbanzos and reserve oil; discard bay leaves. Combine garbanzos and chard in large skillet. Add 2 tablespoons oil reserved from garbanzos. Toss over medium heat until warmed through, moistening with more oil by tablespoonfuls if needed, about 5 minutes. Season with salt and pepper and serve.

-Laura

De-greasing

There are some weeks so busy, so tiresome, so exhausting, that all you can do is eat as fast, filling and fatty a meal as possible. Then there are the days immediately following those days, when the traveling, late night, busy week haze has cleared and all that's left is you and your new paunch. I experienced this very thing towards the end of last week when, after a weekend of nothing but burgers and cheese fries while out of town, and a busy work week where I indulged in the delicious cafeteria comfort food one too many times, I finally felt all of the grease catch up with me. With a volleyball game looming on the horizon Thursday night, it was clear that I needed something on the lighter side, or there would be no getting me on the court.

I'm not a big fan of just having a salad for dinner, but I knew that if I crafted just the right one, I'd be satisfied, and maybe give myself a little energy boost before the game as well. I decided I'd turn to my favorite pantry staple of all time, the humble chickpea. I'm disappointed with chickpea salads about 95% of the time, so I figured I'd take a stab at making my own. Instead of adding too many nuts and veggies and all kinds of crazy chunkies, I decided to keep it super simple with just some minced pimento stuffed olives and a basic vinaigrette. I gave the dressing a little kick by adding some ground cumin and smoked paprika for a bit of spice. I thought about adding some jalapeños for heat, but in the end decided against it, reminding myself of just why I hate most chickpea salads--to many chunkies and too many flavors.

I made the dressing with a bit of lemon juice in the place of vinegar to brighten it up a bit, especially since we're about to get into summer. I even added a bit of zest and whisked it straight into the dressing. With a few pinches of salt and a bit of heat from several turns of cracked white pepper the salad was done and delicious. There was no cooking, just mixing and a little bit of chopping. Here's the recipe:

Chickpea and Olive Salad

1 15 ounce can of chickpeas, drained and rinsed
1/2 cup pimento stuffed olives, finely chopped
juice of half a lemon
1/2 tsp Dijon mustard
zest of 1 lemon
1/4 tsp cumin
1/4 tsp smoked paprika
extra virgin olive oil (about 3-4 tsp)

1. In a bowl, combine Dijon mustard, lemon juice, cumin and paprika. Slowly stream in the olive oil while whisking until vinaigrette is formed.

2. Add chickpeas and olives to vinaigrette and toss to coat. Enjoy!

-Laura

Taking on The Minimalist

This weekend I had big plans to clean my apartment. I'd crank up the music, bust out my do-rag, and make sure everything shone like the top of the Chrysler building. This was of course the third weekend in a row that I'd tell myself that cute little story with no actual success whatsoever. Rain or shine, somehow the weekend came and went and my zeal to clean went right out my dirty windows. Since I was already wasting away on the sofa, I figured the least I could do was go through my recipe folder and convince myself that I'd cleaned something. And it's a good thing I did, because I came across recipes so old they were actually out of style--and I didn't even know that could happen.

The fortunate byproduct of all this was that I was able to rediscover some great recipes that were tucked away between an ancient recipe for chicken satay and Martha Stewart's ultimate birthday cakes (which is interesting since I don't bake). Among the excellent recipes that made the cut was an October 2007 recipe from Mark Bittman, The New York Times' Minimalist. Although rarely agree 100% with his paired down approach (particularly where Spanish food is concerned), I do often clip out his recipes and give them a go. This week I came across a pasta dish with chorizo, chick peas and bread crumbs, all wonderful ingredients. I was intrigued by the prospect of adding texture to pasta with breadcrumbs, in addition to the idea of chickpeas in pasta. I use both of those ingredients constantly, and never once considered using them in this way.

The final dish was good, but I thought it lacked a little something in the way of flavor. Maybe a little acid in the form of lemon juice or wine to cut through the flavors and elevate the dish, or even a bit of zest. It had nothing in the way of herbs and spices until the finishing of parsley, so maybe some fresh herbs could brighten up the flavor. It was definitely tasty, and I would use the garlic/breadcrumb technique again for sure, but I would have to figure out what that missing element was so I could be convinced to make it again. It certainly has potential, but I'd like to find a way to keep it from falling so flat. Here's the recipe, maybe someone else out there can figure out exactly what it's missing (and let me know!).


Pasta with Chickpeas, Chorizo and Breadcrumbs

Salt and black pepper
Extra virgin olive oil, as needed
1/4 pound cooked Spanish chorizo or kielbasa, chopped (I used a bit of both)
1 Tbsp minced garlic
1 cup coarse fresh bread crumbs
4 cups cooked chickpeas, with their liquid
1/2 pound pasta
Chopped parsley leaves, for garnish.

1. Set a large pot of water to boil and salt it. Put 1 tablespoon olive oil in a skillet over medium heat and add chorizo; heat, stirring occasionally, until chorizo is lightly browned, then remove with a slotted spoon and set aside. Add 2 tablespoons olive oil and then the garlic; cook until it colors lightly, then add bread crumbs. Toast, shaking skillet frequently, until bread crumbs turn golden brown, about 10 minutes; if necessary, add a little more olive oil. Season with salt and pepper and remove to a bowl.

2. Add 2 more tablespoons olive oil to skillet and, over medium heat, chickpeas and about 1 cup of their liquid. Cook pasta until it is nearly but not quite tender; drain, then add it to chickpeas. Cook, stirring occasionally, until pasta is tender; stir in chorizo, heat through, and taste and adjust seasoning.

3. Serve chickpea-pasta mixture in bowls, garnished with crisp bread crumbs and a sprinkling of parsley. Enjoy!

-Laura

Chickpeas: Neither a Chick, Nor A Pea...Discuss

Remember a hundred years ago when a verklempt Linda Richman presented us with that topic of conversation? You may not, because not every twelve year-old was the kitchen nerd that I was (and remain to this day). But even then it made me happy that the humble chickpea got a shout out in such a mainstream arena. With the possible exception of hummus and falafel, few people give the chick pea its due, or much attention at all. Although all legumes are good for us, chickpeas in particular are an excellent source of protein (just ask your favorite vegetarian), with one of the highest protein contents of any plant. Even chickpea flour is a much healthier alternative to regular white flour (and tastier, too). That's why, as I prepared for a volleyball game last night (yes, I've been known to don sweatpants and sneakers in public, but don't tell anyone) the only thing I prepared for dinner was a big heaping bowl of fried chickpeas. I know that by deep frying them I probably cancelled out the positive effects of their high protein content, but some things just cannot be helped.

Chickpeas are a pretty big food staple in Spain, whether it's in hearty soups or lighter fare like cod with chickpeas and spinach (yum!), so I, for one, have been stuffing my face with them for years. When I was studying abroad in London and especially destitute I often bought cans of chickpeas and threw them into chicken broth or dressed them like a salad, knowing that they were cheap but good for me. I've always been baffled by their lack of prominence in the US, especially since they're so popular all along the Mediterranean and well into the Middle East and Africa. Chickpeas have a long history, including being a prominent part of the ancient Roman diet, where they were commonly roasted and eaten as a crunchy snack.

My dinner was similar in that the chickpeas were fried until crunchy and dusted with salt and spices while still hot (look out for them when they pop). The result is not unlike a wasabi pea, only more plump and less off putting (not a big fan of the wasabi pea). They're really great as a snack or a light appetizer, and are delicious mixed into pasta with sausage (chorizo for me) and topped with a bit of cheese and toasted breadcrumbs. And the spices you flavor them with can change completely according to your taste--try sprinkling them with curry, cumin and turmeric for a whole new flavor profile, then topple them into some yogurt or pour them over basmati rice. Take them to work for a midday snack, or eat a whole bowl at dinnertime. Either way, give chickpeas a chance and you won't care that they're neither a chick, nor a pea--you'll just think of them as delicious.

Spicy Fried Chickpeas

1 15 ounce can chickpeas, rinsed and dried
2-3 cups oil for frying (I used leftover chili oil, but plain vegetable oil will do fine)
1/4 tsp cumin
1/8 tsp cayenne pepper
1/4 tsp smoked paprika
coarse salt
pepper

1. Heat oil until very hot but not smoking and carefully add the chickpeas. Cook until golden brown and crispy, about 7-10 minutes. Don't be afraid if they pop, that's a good thing.

2. Remove chickpeas from oil with a slotted spoon and set them on a paper towel covered bowl. While still hot, season with cumin, cayenne, paprika and salt and pepper to taste. Toss to coat and enjoy!

-Laura

Who's Afraid of a Big Pot? Part II

Now that I've gotten over my pressure cooker fear, I can better explain the history and process of making cocido. As I mentioned in the last post, cocido is a slow cooked stew that results in a full meal of anywhere from 2 to 3 courses. The first course is always a broth, followed by either combined, or separate meat and vegetable courses (each family does it their own way). The broth is created by boiling several types of meats, including beef, chicken and pork, with carrots, chickpeas and leaks. Towards the end of the cooking process, potatoes are added along with saffron, which gives the broth it's signature flavor and color. The technique is really very similar to making homemade stock or chicken soup. There's no browning, and hardly any chopping, so it's a great dish to make while you clean the house or do a few loads of laundry at home.

It's believed by some (or possibly just me) that cocido evolved from couscous during the Muslim occupation of Spain. It's rare in this country to get couscous in a kiskis (better known here as a couscousiere), but traditionally in North Africa, couscous is cooked in a two tiered vessel where a stew on the bottom layer steams the couscous layer above it. The stew usually contains carrots and turnips, along with some kind of meat like chicken or lamb. I don't know about you, but replace the couscous with chickpeas and I'm pretty sure you have cocido. It's just a theory, since my research hasn't turned up any actual proof of a connection.

Cocido is usually served with a few condiments, one of which are pickled hot peppers that resemble peperoncini or pickled jalapeños. It may sound like an odd thing to add to a dish that's already fairly heavy and works up quite a sweat, but it's actually there to cool you down. Seriously. Ever wonder why the hottest countries in the world have such spicy food? It's because spicy foods trigger our bodies' natural cool down mechanisms. So the next time you want something refreshing on a hot day, try a nice curry or hot and sour soup. Cabbage is also served along with the dish, but is cooked separately. There is also traditionally a breadcrumb pancake that you add to the broth, but we were unable to make it this time, so I'll just skip it for now (if you'd really like to know about it, let me know).


So that's basically the cocido story. I would recommend skipping the pressure cooker (surprise, surprise) and doing it the old fashioned way, because even though it takes a lot longer, there's very little actual commitment to the kitchen. Just set the pot to boil, run a few errands, and check on it a few hours later. Not to mention, the broth is even better the next day and the leftovers can be used a myriad ways. So, I suggest you give it a try and get a really great traditional taste of Spain. Here's how:

Cocido Madrileño (for 4-6 people)

Soup, Meat & Chickpeas
1 lb (about 2 cups) raw chickpeas, soaked in cold water overnight for best results
1/4 lb salt pork
Half a chicken
3-5 unsmoked ham bones (or even a large piece of country ham)
3-5 beef soup bones
2 fresh (raw) chorizo sausages
6 carrots, cut into thirds
1 large leak, washed and cut into thirds
6 potatoes, cut into large chunks

Cabbage
1 small cabbage, shredded
olive oil
3 garlic cloves, thinly sliced
1/2 Tbsp smoked paprika

1. Fill a large heavy pot with 8 cups of cold water. Add all of the meats and bring to a boil on high heat. Add more water if the meats are not fully covered. Skim foam as needed, approximately 2-3 times, or until all foam disappears.

2. Add carrots, leaks and chickpeas to the pot and salt to taste. Bring back to the boil and cook covered on medium low heat, about 3 hours, or until meats and chickpeas are tender. Add water as needed so everything is always fully submerged in liquid--remember, you'll be using the broth as a soup.

3. Meanwhile, bring a pot of salted water to a boil. Add the shredded cabbage and boil until cooked through. Drain and set aside. Return dry pot to heat and add extra virgin olive oil, garlic and paprika. Add cabbage and sauté until done. Set aside.

4. When the meats and chickpeas are ready, add potatoes and bring back to a boil. Add saffron and cook covered until potatoes are tender and cooked through. Continue adding water as needed.

5. When the potatoes are done, strain broth into a medium sized pot. Add thin noodles to broth if desired and cook until done. Taste soup for salt and keep warm on low heat.

6. Carefully plate chickpeas, cabbage, potatoes, vegetables and meats on a large serving platter (see above photo) and serve alongside the soup, and a bowl of pickled hot peppers. Enjoy!

-Laura

Who's Afraid of a Big Pot? Part I

They say there are two types of fear: irrational fear, commonly known as phobia, and rational fear. Fear is a natural human instinct and reaction to a perceived threat, and is meat to keep us safe. A phobia, on the other hand, is a completely irrational reaction to something that in reality poses no genuine threat to our safety. I began to consider fear and phobia this week as my mother and I prepared to cook our first full meal together. It was one of my favorite dishes, and one that I make sure to sample every time that I'm in Spain. Unfortunately, as I've grown older, my trips to the motherland have become less frequent, so I was thrilled when my mom suggested that we make the dish, cocido madrileño, on Christmas day.

I figured since we'd be spending the whole day at home, that we'd be making cocido the old fashioned way. The dish is basically a long simmering stew of meats, veggies and chickpeas that results in a rich broth (as a first course) and a platter full of proteins and veggies (as a second course). Traditionally, it takes anywhere from 2-4 hours to make, but actually requires very little effort on the part of the cook--it's really just a matter of time on the stove. So, why, if it's so easy, did fear set in? Well, my mother decided that we would be cutting corners in order to reduce the cooking time, and it would involve the one cooking vessel that I fear: the pressure cooker. Nooooooooooo!

You see, the pressure cooker was omnipresent in my home as a child, and was a very helpful tool in my mother's cooking repertoire. Hearty, balanced meals were cooked in minutes after coming home from work, but tasted of all day effort. I had fond memories of the pressure cooker (despite warnings that if used improperly it could blow your face off) and enthusiastically purchased a small one when I moved into my first studio apartment several years ago. Needless to say, it was my first attempt at using the pressure cooker by myself that led to my fear (or phobia?). It overheated, created too much pressure within the pot, and locked itself tight (which in later years I came to learn was actually a safety mechanism designed to keep the lid from exploding). Terrified that it would blow clear through the ceiling (or my face) if forced open, I finally gave up. A few hours later I tried opening it again to no avail. The pricey pressure cooker, the bean stew trapped inside, and my resolve as a chef, went straight into the garbage.

So it was with some trepidation that I set forth towards the hardware store on Christmas Eve in search of a pressure cooker. Not only would I have to face my fear, I'd have to buy it. Yikes. I ended up with a bigger, scarier model than the one I had before and feared that a bigger, scarier meltdown would ensue. We began making the meal in the uncovered pot to the sound of Christmas carols. And it was nice--really nice--until the pot came to a boil and it came time to clamp on the lid and let the pressure do its thing. My mother tried clamping on the lid and it wouldn't budge. I tried (not very hard) and (not surprisingly) also failed. We ended up having to grease the rim of the pot and finally managed to get the lid on. I distracted myself from the impending doom of lid removal by setting up my camera and lighting equipment for photos of the final dish.

After 30 minutes of cooking and a few more of cooling, the time came to open the cooker. My mother reached out to the looming H-bomb before us, and with nothing more than a flick of her tiny wrists, removed the lid. I asked her how she did it and why she wasn't scared, and with the confidence and culinary bravery of a pro said, "I've been doing this for 40 years. Besides, who's afraid of a big pot?" Too embarrassed to raise my hand, I feigned distraction and began plating the meats. She was right--who is afraid of a big pot? Why had I been hiding in the living room under the guise of photography, while my mother fearlessly took on the frightening deathtrap before us? If she could do it, then so could I. I marched into the kitchen, chopped a few potatoes, added them to the pot and clamped on the lid. I slid the cooker back onto the burner and waited.

Two minutes later the potatoes were done and the lid had to come off. I ran the pot under cold water (just lifting it into the sink was progress enough for me) to help release the pressure, and waited for it to cool. I braced for the impact and held my face as far back as possible as I twisted the the pot open. With barely even a whisper of pressure, the lid came off and the aroma of a long simmered stew flooded the air of my minuscule kitchen. I'd not only overcome my fear by facing it head on (quite literally) but I got an amazing meal as a result. We plated up the soup, added the veggies and chickpeas to the meat platter and set aside a bowl of condiments. The meal was complete, and I had one fear almost entirely conquered--after all, I have yet to do it alone.


The final dish was outstanding, even though my mother insists that it's the least successful cocido she's ever made. Fortunately, she blames the pressure cooker and not me. Evidently, it's just too big and fancy, with too many bells and whistles. I liked the meal just the same, even though a few ingredients like ham bones were hard to find in Manhattan and didn't make it into the dish. If I'd had more time to prepare and less phobias to deal with, I probably would have found them somewhere. We did find the peperoncini that are served alongside the dish for heat, and a nice bottle of red wine, which, according to my mother is a must. I'll be posting the recipe and some background on the dish in a forthcoming entry (part II), now that I'm done venting. Now if I could only get over my fear of flying or my fear of clowns, it would be a very happy new year indeed :)

-Laura