A Tale of Two Harissas

My latest food obsession is harissa, otherwise known as North African chili paste. In case you are the type who would run screaming after hearing the word "chili", let me assure you that it isn't terribly spicy, unless of course, you want to make it that way. It's more like a little sweet, a little smokey, a little spicy, a little salty, and bursting w/ tantalizing tastes thanks to the spice blend which features coriander, cumin, caraway, mint and lemon. There is a LOT of flavor packed into a teeny dollop, and every molecule of it is heavenly. (I strongly recommend clicking on the "harissa" link above and reading the article "Harissa, mon amour" from the L.A. Times, which describes harissa much more beautifully than I can!)

I recently bought a small jar of the Alili brand harissa, and it was supremely delicious. My honey and I polished off the jar over the span of a mere few days. A spoonful here, a dollop there, and it quickly disappeared. It was so good that I decided this would now be a must-have staple in our kitchen, but at $7.99 a jar, I'd darn well better learn how to make my own! And so today, I did, with a little help from my friends.

I'd been eyeing the harissa recipe in (what else?) Deborah Madison's Vegetarian Cooking for Everyone. But I also sent a request out to my food-obsessed friends on Facebook asking who had an exquisite recipe, and the lovely and multi-talented Jenya sent me a link to this Saveur recipe. I spent the better part of this afternoon making the two recipes side by side, and no offense to Deborah Madison or anyone else, but the Saveur recipe turned out to be the champion.

Both recipes feature dried guajillo and New Mexico chiles, plus garlic, coriander, cumin, caraway seeds, salt and olive oil. But the Saveur recipe also features mint and lemon, and, perhaps more importantly, calls for smaller amounts of all the spices. And somehow, using smaller amounts makes the flavor work better as a whole. Less is more! It's like the difference between a bunch of musicians playing too many notes and stepping all over each other's toes, and, a symphony. Yes, I do believe the Saveur recipe is that good.



I made a couple of slight modifications to the recipe because I didn't have quite enough New Mexico chiles; instead of the eight that it called for, I used four of those plus four California chiles. I must admit, they looked very similar when dried, and I have no idea how it may have altered the taste, but it sure tasted good! Additionally, while the chiles were soaking, I dropped the garlic cloves in to soak as well, in order to take off a bit of that raw garlic edge, for as much as I may love the raw garlic, it doesn't love me back *quite* so much.

Enough blathering - onto the recipe! Long may you enjoy it - I know I'm going to!

8 dried New Mexico chiles, seeded and stemmed
8 dried Guajillo chiles, seeded and stemmed
1/2 t. caraway seeds
1/4 t. coriander seeds
1 t. dried mint leaves
3 T. extra-virgin olive oil, plus more as needed
1 1/2 t. kosher salt
5 cloves garlic
Juice of 1 lemon

1. Put the chiles into a bowl and cover with boiling water, letting sit for about 30 minutes or until softened. After about 5-10 minutes of soaking, drop the garlic cloves into the bowl and let them soak along w/ the chiles. If you don't mind your garlic raw, then wait to add the garlic to the food processor later.

2. In a dry skillet, toast the caraway, coriander & cumin over medium heat, shaking the pan constantly, until fragrant. Let cool a bit and transfer to a spice grinder. Add the mint and grind it all to a fine powder. Set aside.

3. Drain the chiles & garlic and transfer to a food processor. Add the ground spices, olive oil, salt, garlic and lemon juice. If you desire more heat, now's the time to add a little cayenne. Puree, stopping occasionally to scrape down the sides of the bowl. When smooth, transfer to a clean jar, topping off with more olive oil after each use.

Now that you've got it, what are you gonna do with it?! Here are just a few suggestions - stir it into rice or lentils or chic peas or soup to add another dimension of flavor, or spread it onto bread or crackers. Use it as a rub on whatever kind of meat or fish you like. Add a little plop as the secret ingredient in your chili! You get the idea and I bet you've got a few ideas of your own so if so, please send 'em my way!

Peas by Deborah Madison

Lately I can't stop thinking about soup, and I've been making quite a lot of it. This blog DOES have soup in the name, after all.

So far, I can't take an ounce of credit for any of the recipes, except perhaps, in being able to spot a good one when I see it. And time and time again, I find that Deborah Madison never fails me.

Last night I made her recipe for Yellow Split Pea and Coconut Milk Soup w/ Spinach, Rice and Spiced Yogurt, which you can find on this fine blog. I followed the recipe almost to the letter, except that I used only half a can of coconut milk instead of the full amount, and it was divine. The blend of spices includes ground cardamom, cloves, cinnamon, turmeric, and crushed red pepper in the soup, and paprika, cumin, turmeric and black pepper in the spiced yogurt. The end result is warm, tangy, and so completely comforting. I think this might be my new favorite.

If yellow split peas aren't your thing, Deborah has you covered. You can't go wrong with her recipe for classic Split Pea Soup in her cookbook Vegetarian Cooking for Everyone. Here again, a little paprika is used to add a hint of smokiness to the soup, and it works beautifully. That particular recipe uses a nice variety of dried and fresh herbs too. I know I'll be making this one again as the weather grows chillier.

I also stocked up on black-eyed peas recently, and, at the risk of sounding like some kind of deranged chef stalker, once again, Deborah Madison's recipe for Southern Black-Eyed peas, in the same cookbook referenced above, is a keeper. That woman knows how to create spice combinations, and how. This recipe uses ground allspice and chipotle powder. It's dynamite. I can't recommend Vegetarian Cooking for Everyone highly enough.

I'm sure that one day I'll find myself inspired to create my own recipes again, but for now, I'm thoroughly enjoying the recipes that have been created and tested by the pros.

A Radish is Born

Sigh.

Days, weeks, months pass. I keep thinking I should write something. Not just thinking I should, but really wanting to. And yet, summer has turned to fall and soon enough it will be winter, but again and again I find myself staring at the blank page, thinking about things, but not really moved to write.

The cooking has ebbed and flowed. Some nights it's been tacos to go, other nights it's been home baked bread, black eyed peas and slow-cooked greens. It's all been perfect in its own way, but I haven't felt inspired to write about any of it.

There has been a crazy amount of zucchini and gorgeous tomatoes from the garden. One of the coolest things I have experienced in a long time has been growing my own food, and doing it with the one I love. It seems like a simple thing but it feels pretty monumental. The simple and yet monumental experience of growing food and enjoying it and sharing it is what has been getting me through all the things that I don't feel like writing about.

A couple of nights ago, these radishes that were climbing out of the soil felt like salvation.

I don't know what tomorrow will hold or when I will kick my own ass into movement again, and I hate how whiny I sound, but there it is. Fortunately, the garden still grows no matter how uninspired I feel, because I haven't gotten so out of touch that I fail to pay attention to it. The radishes are still growing and so is the chard and the beets and the carrots, and for now, that's enough for me.

Big Food vs. Big Insurance

This Op-Ed piece from a recent edition of the New York Times pretty much sums it up, much more eloquently than I could ever hope to do. Thank you, Michael Pollan for such a well articulated and thought provoking article.

Heaven = Big Sur

Live from Big Sur. This place is so beautiful that it practically restores my faith in the human race and this gorgeous planet that we live on. Somehow mankind hasn't managed to ruin all of it just yet, and I feel very lucky indeed to have finally, finally made it here. How did it take me so long? I'm not sure. But I know that now that I've found this place, I'll be needing to come back again and again and again. Heaven on earth turns out to be a mere three hours from my home in Oakland.

The place that we're staying is like a treehouse in the redwoods. It's so beautiful in an of itself that you could just check in and not even bother to venture out to check out the scenery down below. But oh, you'd be missing out on something amazing if you didn't drive along the coastline and take in the bluest waters, the whitest waves, the clearest skies. It's been a long time since I found myself having my breath taken away like this at every turn, and I have been drinking it in.

Tonight we could have gone out to any number of restaurants with delicious (albeit VERY expensive) menu items to choose from, but we wanted to maximize our time in the treehouse. So we bought some pasta and an onion and some garlic, and used it, along w/ the goat cheese & aged gouda we'd brought from home, and the passel of ripe, juicy tomatoes from our garden, to make a perfectly delicious dinner to enjoy on a hot, hot summer night in a treehouse way up in Palo Colorado National Forest above Big Sur. And it knocked our socks off.

If it seems like goat cheese and aged gouda are a weird combination, just have faith. Think of the aged gouda as if it were parmesan, which you could certainly use if you so desired. But we just used this cause we had it, and it worked beautifully.

This is more of a guide than a recipe.

First, dice half an onion. Put a pot of water on to boil for the pasta. Pour some olive oil into a skillet and slowly saute' the onion with a little salt. Keep it over low heat and stir it occasionally while you're chopping the tomatoes. I used about a dozen cherry tomatoes cut in half, plus three whole tomatoes diced into bite-sized pieces. Then I chopped four large cloves of garlic.

After a little while of cooking the onions, they started to slowly turn golden and soft. I splashed a little red wine into the skillet and kept stirring. I probably would have used balsamic vinegar, but didn't have any, so just used what I had on hand. Kept stirring occasionally over low heat.

Meanwhile, I tossed a small handful of the raw tomatoes into a big serving bowl along w/ a splash of olive oil and a little bit of goat cheese, the creamy kind.

Once the pasta was added to the boiling water, I added the garlic to the onions and kept stirring for a few minutes, then added the remaining tomatoes.

About ten minutes later, when the pasta was done, I added it to the bowl with the raw tomatoes & olive oil & goat cheese. Then I stirred in the skillet full of tomatoes, onions & garlic. And added salt & fresh ground pepper, a little more goat cheese, and a topping of the grated aged gouda. And it was heavenly. The perfectly heavenly meal while visiting heaven on earth. I can hardly think of anything better.

Story of an Artist by Daniel Johnston

Weeks, months fly by. I just got back from a week in Ohio hanging w/ my parents, soaking up the humidity, making pot after pot of soup, and cherishing every moment spent.

The video I'm posting here is apropos of nothing, but tonight, this song came up on my I-tunes and it just slayed me. Split my heart wide open. And I had to share.

Luckily, I've spent much of my life feeling very supported in my attempts to be an artist. But even despite that, I've had moments where I felt like this. I bet that more than a few of you out there can relate.

How My Garden Grows

I don't know how it's possible that it took me 40 years to become excited about gardening, but I am so thrilled to have finally arrived at this place. I know that to many people out there, having a garden is just second nature, and I've always admired those kinds of people, although I never thought I would be one. Some people who've known me for many years have been known to refer to me as "the black thumb", because I was too lame to keep even a basic houseplant alive. But I guess that lameness was something left behind in the dirty thirties, because now, I've got a garden, and it's growing and thriving!

I've never tasted a cucumber as good or as sweet and crispy and bursting with freshness as the ones I've been delightfully picking from the garden lately.

And the tomatoes are plumping up and growing redder by the day, and the zucchini have already become challenging to keep up with, but that is absolutely no problem in my book, because I never tire of zucchini!

The chard is recovering and the arugula is perfect for the picking. The lettuces overflow and the herbs have grown wildly, calling out to be made into herb butter and pesto and salsa verde.

The peppers are still tiny but seem to be making good progress.

And every day, I am so tickled to watch it all grow. And I'm very thankful to my honey for being motivated enough to get us to the gardening store a couple of months ago so we could get everything planted, and for showing me the steps needed to make things flourish and thrive... I mean, it seems so simple now - you just have to plant the seeds, provide water, expose to sunlight, pull the weeds, and pay a little attention. But for some reason, that process always felt like a mystery to me in the past. I'm glad to say that those mystery days are behind me, and am totally excited to discover what other treats I'll have the good fortune to grow as the seasons pass.  And I must say that the whole experience is very good medicine for me at this particular point in time, and for that, I am even more thankful.