Mary Ladd

The Bachelor Client: Farmer's Market Outing

One of my newest clients is someone I've known for awhile. He's a bachelor and wants to update his cooking. His hope? To expand his dinner repertoire "beyond grass fed hot dogs and hamburgers." When he emailed to see if I could help, I said sure. I enjoy helping people get more comfy in their food routines. Especially if it's something they find to be annoying, tedious or otherwise unpleasant. Shopping, prep, cooking, and food storage can be simpler and easier with advice, tips, and practice.

His kitchen is spacious and pretty well stocked. There's room for more coconut milk, curry and other exotic fare, which he has expressed interest in. I also let him know without too much scorn that onions and garlic don't need to be stored in the fridge. But we have to start with baby steps. First, an outing to the farmer's market. Then we'll return to his place and prep.

Le Menu
White bean puree
Whole white beans
Frittata
Pesto with pasta

Shopping List
3 garlic cloves
1 small onion
Tomatoes
2 cups fresh basil leaves
2 T. dill, basil, or other fresh herb
2 T. parsley (optional, for pesto)

1/4 c. + 1/2 c. Parmesan cheese
6 eggs
1/4 c. pine nuts, walnuts, or almonds, for pesto.
1 lb. Fusilli or other long/thin pasta, for pesto

White beans

Split Pea Soup, Where Art Thou?

I bought a bag of green split peas last week at one of my favorite Middle Eastern markets. Split pea soup has been on my mind, and I was aching to make a batch at home. I usually follow the Joy of Cooking recipe, which includes carrots, celery, stock,  and some ham hocks.

Step one was to soak the split peas. I rinsed out a glass bowl and poured the peas in. Then turned on water and watched the bowl fill. Here came my ew, WTF moment. There were 12 or more bugs swimming around in the water. They were really moving. I turned off the water and muttered. Followed by sighs. The bag cost only $1.19 and would've made for three, maybe four meals. But no go. I had to drain the water back in the sink, and dump the bugs and peas in the trash.

I thought Safeway would be a safe option today. The bag I picked had peas that looked somehow brighter and greener. There were definitely no dust or bug elements to the naked eye. The clerk eyed my ham hocks (2 1/2 pounds, baby!) and asked what was I going to make. I told her the story of the bugs, complete with shrugs and cringes on my part. She looked concerned. "Well, bugs. They do happen. You have to watch out for holes. Lemme see. Are there holes in this bag?" We both started looking, and she added, "Two sets of eyes are better than one," and wouldn't you know, we found some tiny tears. "See? That's where they get in," she said.

"OK, I'll run and grab a better batch," I said. I almost started laughing as I pawed my way through almost fifteen bags of split peas. They all had at least one or two holes. Ugh. My visions of a soupy afternoon were crushed.

"Yeah, cancel the soup. No carrots. No ham hocks," I said. I knew I could make a white bean or other soup but it wouldn't be the same. I've built this soup up to be the best damn tastiest thing ever. Nothing can compete.

I was glad I had a bakery chocolate chip cookie and milk to cheer me up on my way home. It's 6:18 p.m. and I am still in denial that I have to come up with something else for dinner.

Hangover Relief: Pho

SF's Vietnam II restaurant was where I learned to eat pho, a beef noodle soup. During cooking school, it quickly became routine to meet my classmate, Rebecca, to talk about food, gossip, and enjoy the fragrant meal. Eating there meant I could easily get through class and cooking without getting ravenous (all bets off if foie gras or charcuterie were introduced, though). The sides make pho, and add flavors and wonderful scents: Thai basil leaves, bean sprouts, jalapeno slices, and lime (or lemon) wedges. It gets saucy with drizzles of spicy and piquant Sriracha sauce; hoisin adds sweetness.

Today, I needed some hot pho broth to help me feel alive. Drinking at Tosca Cafe in North Beach (celeb sighting! Ed Harris rockin' some odd sideburns) til 1:30 last night was fun, but my head and body are aching today. Thank goodness Pho Saigon, my current pho source in San Mateo, opens at 10 a.m. Each spoonful of broth gave relief, and the pounding in my head seemed to mellow considerably. The thinly sliced rare beef was tender and easy to chew, and tasted like heaven. I loved getting pieces of basil, that gave off a wonderful smell as I tore them up. Take that, dreaded hangover!

Me-so headachy and gray haired. Red Miso soup to the rescue

I re-read an interesting book recently called Glow by Christine Pirello that details how food effects the way we look and feel. There's descriptions on everything from white bumps near the eyes to acne and dry skin. I paid close attention to the sea vegetables category because I discover new gray hair on an almost weekly basis.

One reasonable theory in Glow is that gray hair and baldness are hereditary. May be, but my Mom didn't get too much gray hair til her mid-forties, so I'm looking to cheat my fate. Who would be happy finding gray hair, aside from Jim Jarmusch, who's had it since age fifteen, and uses his hair to attain outsider status wherever he goes. But I digress.

Glow suggests eating sea vegetables daily or as often as possible, because they contain valuable nutrients that are tough to find in other food. I was surprised Oscar agreed to my "let's eat miso soup with seaweed for breakfast idea." Maybe he's used to my crackpot ideas (do you want to try raw foods? Let's get a juicer. How bout a food dehydrator?), and presumably realizes I say more than I actually do. After a month of my miso for breakfast suggestion, we have yet to eat any home made miso soup, for any meal.

Until today. I was head-achy and hungry, and nothing in the fridge or pantry jumped out... until I noticed the package of toasted seaweed. I pulled out a jar of mellow red miso (Westbrae Natural brand) from the fridge and found a good layout for how to make miso one pot miso soup. I tweaked the recipe so it could match as close to restaurant miso soup as possible. This means I omitted their suggestion of thinly sliced carrot, cauliflower, or cabbage. The results were a light, salty, slightly sweet soup, with onions that were a bit too crunchy (longer saute time should help for future batches), and the seaweed a little too soggy. I thought I had stirred all the miso in thoroughly, but found a glop in the bottom when I was serving. Avoid this by stirring continuously until the miso melts into the broth.

Eating the soup made my headache disappear. I'll keep you posted if my gray hairs miraculously stop showing up each week.

Easy Miso Soup Recipe:

1 tsp. olive oil

1 onion, medium diced

2 cups vegetable broth or water (I used water after discovering my box of veggie broth expired in 2003. What? I thought I just bought it a year ago. I usually use chicken broth or stock, so that may be why I never noticed the expiration.)

2 sheets toasted seaweed, cut into small squares. Tip: Slice into sheets, then stack the sheets and cut into small squares.

1-2 Tbsp. Miso, to taste

3 oz. firm tofu, diced

Garnish before serving: 1/2 Tbsp. Eden Shake Sesame and Sea Vegetable seasoning

In medium saucepan, saute onion in oil until they turn translucent. Make sure they are not too crunchy by tasting one. Add broth or water, cover and simmer for 3-4 minutes. Add 1-2 tablespoons miso, and seaweed, and dissolve. Simmer 5-10 more minutes. Sprinkle Eden shake over soup before eating. Serves 2 for breakfast or as a light starter to a meal.

Summer Classic: Corn and Mushroom Chowder

Corn and mushrooms together give an earthy, sweet richness to any meal. In this chowder, adapted from Deborah Madison's Local Flavors, little dairy is used because the corn's "milk" takes care of that. You can even skip the dairy altogether, by substituting filtered water. There's nothing wrong with getting humble white mushrooms, but if can afford them, chanterelles add lustre.

One neat trick my chef brother passed along is an improved corn cutting method. No need to prop the corn up and cut lengthwise. Instead, save yourself the mess of corn flying through the air, and lay it on its side, cutting and turning as you go. Allow your knife to cut two thirds of the way down in to the kernel, and no further. When you finish, reverse the knife and press out the scrapings into your soup pot.

While making this chowder, I became ravenous while sauteeing the mushrooms. It took the potatoes almost half an hour to fully soften, so I kept sneaking bites of the buttery mushrooms and dipping Semifreddi's ciabatta into the broth.

Corn and Mushroom Chowder:

4 large ears of sweet corn shucked (try 2 white and 2 yellow for nice color & presentation)

2 long leeks-sliced, rinsed, and diced

2 yellow waxy potatoes, cleaned and scrubbed, and diced

2 T unsalted butter

2 t fresh chopped thyme

2 cups white or chanterelle mushrooms

1 quart milk

1/2 gallon vegetable stock (Imagine or home made)

1/2 cup cream

Salt, fresh ground pepper, to taste

Melt one tablespoon butter in a soup pot, adding leeks, potatoes and half the thyme. Add 1 cup water, sprinkle with 1/2 teaspoon salt, and cook over medium heat for 2 minutes. Add the corn.

Heat the remaining butter in a wide skillet. Add the mushrooms and saute over high heat, turning often, for about five minutes. Add the mushrooms with their juices to the soup pot, then pour in the stock and milk. Bring slowly to a simmer and cook until the potatoes are tender. Stir in the cream and add remaining thyme, chives, and season with salt and pepper.

Cookin' with Soba!

I like Roland organic soba noodles, so I got some salted water boiling for today's light lunch.

In a separate pot, I boiled 1 cup mirin, turning down to simmer and adding 1/4 cup soy sauce and 1 1/2 cups water. Other ingredients were: almost 2 cooked and diced pork chops (Oscar must've taken a HUGE bite during a break from his Madden football gaming session late last night). I chopped and added to the mirin-soy simmer: 4 heads baby bok choy, and 1/2 white onion.

I worried the pork would toughen up since it was already cooked, but figured the flavors would meld in the few minutes. Total simmer time was around five minutes.

One mystery note: a good two teaspoons of wasabi powder added to the mirin simmer at the end of cooking had no flavor or effect.

Once the noodles were finished and rinsed, I ladled them into a bowl, with the mirin broth and vegetables. The broth seemed too sweet throughout cooking, but a sprinkling of toasted white sesame seeds before eating helped.

When he ate the soba for dinner tonight, Oscar detected a subtle wasabi note that wasn't overpowering in the broth.

Next time, I may forgo the pork and add spinach and a sliced boiled egg garnish.