Potatoes, Cajunified.

When it comes to improvising in the kitchen, I like set up a few ingredients and run.......

Today's ingredients: Yukon Gold potatoes, shallots, and kale. I chopped everything fine, started cookin' with butter, and when my kale turned bright green (a last, flailing hurrah before resigning to wiltedness) my thoughts turned to seasoning. How should these potatoes taste?

On a normal, non-inspired day, I'd season the potatoes with salt, pepper, and red pepper flakes, then serve them with an egg. Hardly anything provides more comfort than potatoes and eggs for breakfast. Just ask the friendly people at Denny's.

But today, I wanted a new spice, a spice profile I wish I'd encountered last weekend at McMenamin's in Hillsdale. Raymond and I enjoyed a citrusy ale with our neighbors one happy hour, laughing loudly and munching on hummus, pita, and "Cajun tots" -- truly exquisite bar fare for only $1 or $2. While the hummus was fluffy, creamy, and delicious and the tater tots crispy and fresh, the only Cajun attribute they boasted was a generous sprinkling of Cajun spice on top. As we munched, I thought wouldn't it be lovely if this flavor was fused into the potatoes?

So, I tried to create a non-happy hour version of my vision at home. Since I keep most of my spices at my side as I cook--they're magnetically attached to the fridge--spiking the potatoes and kale with Cajun seasoning and chili heat took less than a minute. As the potatoes and kale finished, I stirred the seasonings into a coating that wrapped itself over the vegetables, making every bite count.

I finished the potatoes with some seasoned cream cheese, but a lovely sour cream or aged cheddar would compliment them equally well. Whether you enjoy them for breakfast or as a late-night munch, I hope the blend of spice and creaminess in these potatoes tickles your stomach (in a nice way.)

Cajun Taters with kale
serves 2

• 2 medium Yukon Gold potatoes
• 1/2 large shallot
• 2 large leaves of kale
• 1 tablespoon of unsalted butter
• 1 heaping tablespoon of Tony Chachere's Creole Seasoning
• freshly ground pepper
• 1 -2 tsp. Louisiana hot sauce
• 2 tablespoons of cream cheese or sour cream: plain, onion and chive or toasted onion flavor

Warm a cast iron skillet on a stove over medium heat and wash the potatoes, leaving on the skins. Dice the potatoes into 1/2-inch cubes, then toss them and the butter into the skillet. Melt the butter and stir the potatoes well for an even coat of delicious fat. Mmmm.

Let the potatoes cook, stirring occasionally, while you thinly slice the shallots. Add the shallots when the potatoes are half-cooked, in about 10 minutes. Stir the 'taters and shallots and let them cook for another five minutes. Slice the kale into thin, wafery ribbons and stir them into the skillet. Generously sprinkle a handful of water over the vegetables, give everything a stir, and cook for another few minutes.

At this point, the potatoes should be almost cooked completely, the shallots are becoming tender, and the kale has turned a brilliant, nutrient-filled green. We're almost finished!

Stir in the hot sauce, then the Creole seasoning. All of the potatoes should be evenly coated with a Creole slurry; if there's not enough moisture for that, add another sprinkle of water. You want the Creole slurry to bond to every surface of the potatoes, to sear on and to almost create a crust of Cajun flavor. Stir the vegetables well and taste a potato; add more Creole seasoning or hot sauce as needed.

Add some freshly ground pepper and remove the potatoes from heat. Divide the potatoes into two bowls and top or stir in a tablespoon of cream cheese/sour cream into each portion. Enjoy the potatoes warm, while basking in the knowledge that an order of Cheesy Fiesta Potatoes would top 270 calories, 16 grams of fat, and a trip through the drive thru.

If you liked this recipe, you might enjoy:

Cajun shrimp and rice

Fried potatoes

New potatoes with onions and chard

Midnight Brownies for a new moon

Pfft on good intentions.

I've been meaning to share this brownie recipe with you since the last blue moon on December 31, but preparations for New Year's Eve left the brownies and my resolutions list by the wayside. So now, I bring you brownies for tonight's new moon.

These brownies perfectly quash a late-night chocolate attack, a specific craving I encounter when I'm up in the dregs of night reading, writing, or staring slack-jawed at yet another episode of Criminal Minds. They're dense without oiliness, chewy, intensely chocolaty without bitterness, and they have no fluffy throwbacks to chocolate cake. The fact that they come together with little expended brain juice also recommends them to late-late munching.

By saving a snack like this for specific times--say, between 12 am and 3--I find the brownies themselves take on an exclusive specialness, a magical significance previously reserved for other early-AM items: that novel I must finish (like Margaret Atwood's The Edible Woman), the scarf that's all! most! done!, or--ahem--a blog post that needs just one more edit.

I hope you incorporate these brownies into your routine tonight. I promise they'll fit perfectly in the hand that's not flipping through a magazine.



Midnight Brownies
adapted from Vosges' Full Moon Brownies

• 8 oz. dark chocolate, like Green & Black's Maya bar or two Ghiradelli baking bars
• 3 Tb. cocoa powder
• 1 tsp. chili powder (optional)
  
• 8 oz. unsalted butter (or 8 oz. cold coconut oil)
  
• 1 tsp. sea salt
• 1 tsp. vanilla
• 1/2 cup cold coffee or espresso
• 3 large eggs
• 1 cup cane sugar
  
• 1 cup all-purpose flour

First, preheat an oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit. Next, using a double-boiler or a small saucepan nested in a larger saucepan of gently simmering water, melt together the chocolate bar and butter over medium heat. Stir the chocolate a butter until everything's smooth, then slowly whisk in the cocoa and chili powders until smooth. Remove the chocolate from the stove and set aside.

In a medium bowl, lightly whisk together the eggs, sugar, vanilla, salt, and coffee--for only about 30 seconds or so. Gently mix in the chocolate/butter mixture. Stir in the flour until it's just incorporated and don't over-mix it.

Line a brownie pan with foil, then grease the inside of the foil. Pour the brownie batter into the pan and bake for 35 minutes, or until the center is set. Cool the brownies on an overturned muffin tin (so the air can circulate under the brownies) for at least 30 minutes before removing the brownies from their foil lining. Cut into squares and serve immediately--my preference--or wrap tightly in plastic and store for up to a week in the fridge.

They're best served at midnight, with a cup of coffee and some Coast to Coast AM.

If you liked this recipe, you might also enjoy:

Died-and-gone-to-chocolate cookies
Rocky road brownies
Chocolate chip biscotti with orange

Party fruit pie

My work finally quit bumming around and held its annual holiday party on Tuesday. Attending a holiday party during the holidays is so mundane. It's much better to party in January because you get to eat good food and watch your friends break their resolutions to "eat better." Ha ha!

I arrived early to help transform a TV studio into a banquet hall. The other volunteers arranged centerpieces, set up chairs, and made sure each table had a Play Dough set (for the sculpture contest, duh!) And we filled the space with helium balloons. We must have inflated, tied, and arranged over 200 balloons. One of the volunteers tied so many balloons that she sustained two blisters on her fingers. What a hardcore chick.

But the work was worth it. Almost everyone at work brought a dish to share, and we heard brief (but riveting!) speeches about how our radio and TV stations fared last year. After speeches, we held games: there were Play Dough sculptures, Rock Band, a Wheel of Fortune-style prize wheel, and a raffle. Even our CEO partied like a rock star.

The pie I brought was a rock star, too. At least, I assume it was a rock star, because the whole thing disappeared before the event ended. This pie is one of those last-minute wonders you can bring to parties, lunches, or potlucks. I first improvised it on Christmas day. My neighbors were hosting a to-do, and about an hour before the event, I realized the pears I bought to make a tart were still rock hard--three full days from ripening. After a quick rummage in the pantry and a flip through my trusty BH&G, the dried fruit pie was born. Twenty minutes of prep and 40 minutes of baking and it's done.

The time I spend preparing this pie bounces back and forth between the crust preparation and cooking the pie filling. When you read through the lengthy instructions below, don't fret. It took me five times longer to write the dang instructions than it did to bake the pie. If you have an hour and some dried apricots in the pantry, you have pie. Isn't that lovely to know?

Dried fruit tart with pastry stars

serves 8

filling

• 2 1/2 cups dried apricots
• 1 1/2 to 2 cups water
  
• 2/3 cup dried cherries
• 2/3 cup dried cranberries
• 1/2 cup turbinado sugar
• 1 Tb. molasses
• 2 Tb. blackberry, mulberry, or raspberry jam
• 1 tsp. cinnamon
• 1 tsp. cardamom
• 1/2 tsp. nutmeg
• 1/2 tsp. cloves
• 3 Tb. cornstarch

crust

• 1 1/3 cup all-purpose flour
• 1 cup whole wheat flour
• 2/3 cup cold butter
• 5-6 Tb. cold water (keep it in the fridge until used)
  
• 1 tsp. cinnamon
  

First, preheat an oven to 375 degrees Fahrenheit. Then, use kitchen shears to snip all of the apricots in half. Place the apricots in a bowl, cover them with hot water, and let them soak while you make the crust.

For the crust, mix the flours, salt and cinnamon in a large bowl. Cut the cold butter into the flours using a pastry cutter or fork, until the pieces are pea-sized. Sprinkle a spoonful of cold water over the dough, then toss everything gently with a fork. Repeat this process, one spoonful of water at a time, until the dough is moistened. The less you handle this dough, the flakier it will be.

Gently form the dough into a smooth ball. Wrap 1/3 of the dough tightly in plastic and refrigerate it while you form the pie's base crust. On a lightly floured surface, roll out the remaining dough from the center to the edges. Work quickly so the butter stays cool. Create a 12" diameter circle of dough that's to a 1/4" thick.

To transfer the dough to the pie plate, roll it gently around the rolling pin, and dust the dough occasionally with flour. Unroll the dough onto the pie plate, centering the dough as you go. Press the dough into the plate, prick the bottom crust with the tines of a fork, and trim the excess dough. Bake for 10 minutes, or until the crust is just barely dry on the top.

While the crust is prebaking, remove the reserved crust from the fridge and use the same method to roll that dough to a 1/4" thickness. Use a cookie cutter to make dough stars/flowers/leaves, etc. and brush the shapes with milk. Set aside in a cool place and focus on the pie filling!

Drain the apricot halves. Place the apricots in a medium saucepan and add about two cups of water--enough to fill in the nooks and crannies, but not enough to cover the fruit. Bring the apricots to a low simmer for at least five minutes, then stir in the sugar, molasses, spices, and jam. At this point, the apricots should look plump, and the water should be reduced by half.

Reduce the burner heat to low and stir in the cherries and cranberries. Stir in the cornstarch thoroughly for a full minute. Remove the pan from heat and let the sauce thicken slightly before spooning into the pie crust. Top the pie with dough shapes and bake for 35-45 minutes, until the crust is a golden brown.

If you like this recipe, you might enjoy:

Apple pie with cranberries

Pecan pie

Fall pear tart

A new year, a new decade, a new cornbread

Heavens to Betsy, January 1, 2010 has nearly passed! It's nearly gone and I haven't shared my favorite recipes for a year of good luck. If you live in an Eastern time zone, I'm sorry. If you live in the Central zone on west, there's still time! Start melting some butter in a skillet and keep reading!

Everyone's got a different way to usher in a new year. Some people ring bells, some people eat a special meal at midnight. Some people open every window in their house to chase bad spirits away. But in my family, we use food to bring good luck. Specifically black-eyed peas and cornbread.

This ritual may be as "unique" as making hot cocoa to celebrate the first snow of winter, but I believe that black-eyed peas have thrown many blessings my way. You don't even have to pre-soak the buggers. Blessing #1: easy cooking.

This year, this specific year thrills me exceptionally because it began a new decade on a blue moon. I'm sure you have an inkling of how often blue moons appear. This lunar rarity, paired with my reflections on just how much living I've done from 2000 to present, has firmed my conviction that a New Year's Meal is as much about past blessings as future plans.

Ten years ago, my best friend, Sheree, and I awaited the arrival of the Y2K crash in downtown Fayetteville, Arkansas. Our 16-year-old hearts were full of silliness and excitement for our final year of high school. We had our friends, our classes, and we could hope for nothing better.

Last night, my husband and I toasted the new year with new friends and champagne in our new home. And we could ask for nothing better. Happy New Year. Happy New Decade.



New Year Black-eyed peas
serves 3

• 2 cups dry black-eyed peas
• 3 cups water
• 1 Tb. butter
  
• 2-3 Tb. molasses
• 1 tsp. mellow-flavored sea salt
• 3 Tb. turbinado sugar
• 1/3 cup finely chopped shallot
• 2 cloves garlic, chopped finely

Blissfully, black-eyed peas don't need to soak overnight. So! Pour the beans and water into a medium saucepan, bring everything to a rolling boil for a minute or two, and then let the beans simmer on a low boil, uncovered, while you prepare cornbread.

Melt a pat of butter in a cast-iron skillet and saute the shallots and garlic over medium-low heat, until the veggies are translucent and fragrant, about 10 minutes. Remove the cooked veggies to a small dish and use the pre-greased skillet to make cornbread (below.)

When the beans have absorbed all but a cup of water, stir in the molasses, salt, sugar, and cooked veggies. Keep the beans over a low simmer until the beans are tender and most of the water is absorbed.


Confetti-top cornbread
serves 6

• 1 cup whole-wheat flour
• 3/4 cup medium-grind cornmeal
• 2 Tb. Turbinado or brown sugar
• 1-2 Tb. honey
  
• 2 1/2 tsp. baking powder
• 3/4 tsp. flavorful salt
• 2 large eggs, beaten slightly
• 1 cup milk
• 1/4 cup melted butter
• 1 tsp. poppy seeds
• 1/2 tsp. crushed red pepper flakes
• 1/2 tsp. sesame seeds (optional)

Topping:

• 1 tsp. fresh thyme
• 1 Tb. butter
• 1 Tb. honey
  

While the beans finish cooking, preheat your oven to 400 degrees Fahrenheit. Combine the flour, cornmeal, sugar, salt, and baking powder in a small bowl and set aside.

In another bowl, whisk together the eggs, milk, honey, and butter. Stir in the flour mixture until just moistened. Pour the batter into your greased skillet, then top with sesame seeds, poppy seeds, and crushed pepper flakes. Bake the cornbread for about 15 minutes, or until a wooden toothpick inserted near the center comes out clean.

Let the bread cool briefly while you coarsely chop the thyme. Use a butter knife to evenly spread a pat of butter and a tablespoon of honey on top of the bread, then sprinkle thyme over that. Serve warm, and wrap leftovers tightly in plastic wrap for up to three days.


If you liked this recipe, you might also enjoy:

College Hill Coffee blueberry muffins
Beans and maters
Rice and beans (and cheese)