Our old friend David went to Seattle last year and brought us a little tin filled with the aromatic Turkish powder, baharat, from that city’s famous Public Market. I have been shy about using it. Frankly, I thought the spice mix was for meat dishes only. So I’d sort of side-lined it to the back of the spice cabinet, that is until I read Yotam Ottolenghi uses baharat in a tabbouleh recipe from his new book, Jerusalem.

Yotam’s baharat-seasoned tabbouleh

So I did a little research. Turns out, baharat is a mélange of allspice, cinnamon, black pepper, cardamonn, cloves, coriander, cumin, chili pepper and nutmeg. It has a wonderful scent.

Yotam’s baharat-seasoned tabbouleh

½ cup bulgur
3 large ripe tomatoes, chopped fine
2 shallots, chopped fine, rinsed in running cold water
Juice of 3 lemons or more
3 large bunches of Italian parsley, washed, drained and chopped fine
5 leaves of escarole, washed, drained and chopped fine
2 bunches mint, rinsed, dried and chopped fine
2 tsp ground allspice
1 tsp baharat mix
1/3 to ½ cup first cold press, top quality, arbequina olive oil
Sea salt and fresh black pepper to taste

Rinse bulgur in a strainer. Add to a bowl, cover with water and let soak for ½ hour. Drain and squeeze it to remove as much water as possible. Transfer to a large bowl, add tomatoes, shallot, parsley, mint, escarole, spices, salt and pepper. Toss to combine. Add lemon juice and about two thirds of the olive oil. Toss again. Let it rest at room temperature for about 15 minutes. Just before serving add more olive oil and lemon juice and toss again.

I like the taste of the French/Italian/Spanish dish brandade. Usually made with salt cod, potatoes, dairy and spices, everything gets whipped together then baked in the oven till golden and delicious. Here’s a traditional brandade recipe from the New York Times.

Steven’s been after me about making this for a while. I won’t say how long. I keep promising I am going to but every time I gather the ingredients together I get distracted with other ideas. It isn’t quite “an issue” but… well, let’s just say that it’s high time that I pull this dish together.

“Brazilian” salt cod brandade

My inspiration comes from the aforementioned traditional recipe and from my Dungeness crab casquinha de siri.

This is a crowd-pleaser that is perfect either as an elegant appetizer with crackers or slices of French baguette, or, like we had it, as a main course with a side of Israeli couscous and a mango and black bean salad to make a substantial meal.

Salt cod needs to be soaked in cold water for 24 to 48 hours with a few water changes to remove excess salt. I have some instructions on how to de-salt and pre-cook it here.

“Brazilian” salt cod brandade

2/3 lb prepared cod fish pieces (skinless and boneless)
2 Yukon gold potatoes, about 1lb, boiled and pureed (no lumps)
2 garlic cloves, minced
3 tbsp extra virgin olive oil
5 tbsp onion, minced
1 tbsp finely chopped parsley
½ tsp sweet paprika
4 peeled tomatoes (from a can this time of year) chopped
1-2 tbsp grated Parmigiano-Reggiano
1 red Jalapeño pepper, minced, seeds and ribs discarded
4 tbsp light coconut milk
2 to 3 tbsp fine bread crumbs
Salt and fresh black pepper to taste
Ramekins (I used four medium sized ones)

Place cod pieces in the food processor and whiz for few seconds to break it down to small uniform bits but not into a paste.

Heat olive oil in a non stick pan, add onion and Jalapeño. Sauté until soft, add garlic and continue cooking for few more seconds until aromatic. Add tomatoes and let them break apart in the heat. Add cod, paprika, parsley, salt, pepper, coconut milk and mix everything together to warm through. Add potato and about one tablespoon bread crumbs. Mix to incorporate everything. Texture should look like that of a potato puree.

Fill your ramekins with the salt cod mix, drizzle with a bit of olive oil, top with a sprinkle of bread crumbs, and then grated parmesan cheese. Broil to give the crust a golden color (remember you’ve already cooked everything on the stove). Remove from oven a serve.

I know I should have bought a smaller container of Greek yogurt in the first place…

We don’t normally eat yogurt by itself. In fact, we usually only have it at home when a recipe calls for it. Like Ottolenghi’s Greek yogurt baba ghanoush. But that scrumptious dish only required two tablespoons. What to do with the rest??

Blueberry Greek yogurt pancakes, of course!

blueberry Greek yogurt pancakes

The day before I made these pancakes NPR’s Morning Edition aired a special report on Smitten Kitchen during our morning breakfast ritual. Not about pancakes, the story spoke about how that now famous blogger turns out beautiful dishes in her tiny Manhattan kitchen (That sounds so familiar! Do you think that she got the idea from Julie Powell? Just a thought…)

Obviously, Deb Perelman was also promoting her new cookbook over the radio. Congratulations, Deb! She prepared latkes for Lynn Neary during the story—so not pancakes exactly but bear with me here. The following day I googled blueberry yogurt pancakes and one of Deb’s entries came up first.

So influenced by the morning news and Google’s high ranking, I decided to give the recipe a try. I didn’t have all the ingredients that she calls for. Here’s my adapted version of Smitten Kitchen’s dish.

blueberry Greek yogurt pancakes

1 large egg plus one egg white
1 cup plain, full-fat yogurt
2 to 4 tablespoons soy milk
3 tablespoons canola oil
½ teaspoon lemon zest
½ teaspoon vanilla extract
1½ cup (62 grams) whole wheat flour
2 tablespoons sugar
1 tablespoon plus 1 teaspoon baking powder
½ teaspoon sea salt
1 cup frozen blueberries, thawed
Some butter to grease the skillet

Sift together sugar, salt, flour, baking powder and set aside. In a separate bowl add egg, egg white, soy milk, lemon zest, vanilla extract. Whisk to combine then whisk in yogurt. Combine wet and dry ingredients. Add a bit more soy milk if batter seems too thick.

Place two non-stick skillets on stovetop over medium. Melt a bit of butter in each pan. Add one small ladle full of batter to each pan and cook for about 3-4 minutes on one side, sprinkle some blueberries on top, flip and cook for about 3 minutes more on other side. Continue in that way until batter used up.

Serve with butter, maple syrup and a good cup of freshly brewed black coffee.

Steven gave me Yotham Ottolenghi’s new cookbook, Jerusalem as a sort of date-night surprise gift. I’m psyched about it since his previous book, Plenty, was a total success at home. We cooked most of the recipes from the first with hardly any failures. I’m just starting in on Jerusalem but have high hopes.

Ottolenghi-inspired baba ghanoush

In both books eggplant-related recipes shine. I love eggplant. Have you tried Ottolenghi’s incredible roasted eggplant with pomegranate molasses from Plenty? That one in particular is amazing. But I’m a restless chef and thus I always look for new approaches for my beloved aubergine. This caught my attention because here Ottolenghi takes a classic and adds a little twist—Greek yogurt. The yogurt lends extra creaminess to the dish plus a bit of a mild tart flavor. Exciting!

I am really looking forward to exploring Jerusalem over the next weeks and months.

Ottolenghi-inspired baba ghanoush

2 large eggplants
2 tbsp Greek Yogurt
1 garlic clove, mashed
1 tbsp extra virgin olive oil
3 tbsp Italian parsley, chopped fine
Freshly ground black pepper
Sea salt
Pomegranate seeds

Put eggplant in a shallow baking pan and broil until they collapse and the skin is blackened/burned—about a half hour or so. Remove from oven and let cool. Using a fork remove the flesh and transfer to a colander so juices can drain.

Place eggplant flesh in a bowl, add fresh garlic, olive oil, salt and pepper. Gently mix with a fork to slightly mash it. Transfer to a serving dish, sprinkle with pomegranate seeds and serve as a side dish (we had ours with fish & caper kebabs) or as an appetizer with pita bread.

Steven’s been complaining about my cooking lately. Well, maybe not complaining exactly but pointing out a bit clearly that we’ve been in a breakfast rut for a while—bread and coffee, bread and coffee, bread and coffee. Perhaps we’ve both been a little bored with this monotonous refrain. We do eat whole wheat, which is very healthy. He has his with jam and nut butter; I have mine with Earth Balance. Sometimes though what starts out as a virtue can become a culinary straightjacket.

nut and seed granola with date and pomegranate molasses

Breakfast food is normally loaded with cholesterol so we try to stay away from eggs, cheese and butter as much as possible. Plus during the week, we have virtually no time to cook in the morning. Both of us want to maximize sleep so we get up and leave for work in about thirty minutes. That includes showering, taking out Clarence, getting ready and sharing a little breakie together. So forget cooking!

Granola is a Northern California stereotype and certainly I’ve seen more than one hiker whip out a pouch of the stuff or a few bars in the middle of the woods. Despite the silliness, just like Martha says, “it is a good thing.”

I adapted this recipe from Alton Brown and David Lebovits. I think they adapted their recipes from someone else because they seem fairly similar. You can vary the ingredients to customize your granola or improvise and just toss in whatever’s at hand in the pantry.

I had originally intended to use maple syrup like that other granola I wrote about years ago but realized at the last second that we’d run out. The date and pomegranate molasses were wonderful substitutes.

nut and seed granola with date and pomegranate molasses

5 cups organic rolled oats
2 cups chopped pecans
½ cup pumpkin seeds
1 cup cashew nuts, chopped
½ cup Brazil nuts, chopped
½ cup dried grated coconut
1/2 cup brown sugar
¼ tsp ground cinnamon
½ tsp ground ginger
1 teaspoon sea salt

1 cup raisins (or a mix of dried fruits)

2 tbsp walnut oil
1/3 cup rice bran syrup
¼ cup date molasses
¼ cup pomegranate molasses
½ cup warm water

Pre-heat the oven to 300F.

With exception of the raisins, place all dry ingredients in a bowl, mix and set aside.

Add wet ingredients to a separate bowl and whisk to combine. Pour over dry ingredients. Use your hands so it gets absorbed evenly. Spread the granola on two large baking trays and bake for 45 to 60 minutes. Stir granola with a spatula every 10-15 minutes. Remove from oven. Let cool a bit then add raisins and toss to combine. Let cool completely. Transfer to an air tight container and have it for breakfast with some soy milk, or on a hike to somewhere gorgeous.

do you feel the call of the wild?

This recipe was adapted from health. Old fashioned but I think making a come-back: after all you make it with horseradish and panko breadcrumbs. That’s real style.

halibut in horseradish panko crust

Straightforward to make, and really tasty, I’ve already served it a couple of times at home. This is perfect for the holidays. I made it over Thanksgiving with a larger piece of fish which I baked about 40 minutes and served family style.

halibut in horseradish panko crust

4 6oz skinless halibut fillets (only the freshest!)
2 tbsp prepared horseradish
2 tbsp fat free sour cream
2 cloves garlic, mashed
Sea salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste
2 tbsp olive oil
½ to ¾ cup panko (Japanese bread crumbs)
1 tbsp chopped Italian parsley

Pre heat the oven to 400F. Line a baking tray with wax paper. Brush paper with olive oil.

Mix horseradish, sour cream, garlic, parsley and a pinch of salt together. Set aside.

Rinse and dry halibut fillets in paper towels. Place fillets on baking tray few inches apart from each other. Sprinkle fish with salt and pepper, drizzle with some olive oil. Top each fillet with a spoonful of the horseradish mix then cover with panko bread crumbs. Bake it in the oven for about 7-8 minutes and voila! You will have a juicy fillet of fish with a nice golden brown crust.

Serve with some sautéed spinach and garlic mash potatoes. Don’t forget to have a glass of red wine too! Always the best with fish 😉

happy holidays from our kitchen to yours

I wanted so desperately to adore Benu! This place is über-chic right now. Supposedly when it was reviewed by some really fancy and prestigious paper in New York a while back, the writer said it was worth hopping on a plane for the six hour flight just to dine here. That’s a spectacular idea, isn’t it?

here I am getting my eye-phone ready for a gorgeous meal at Benu. Can you see the picture on the wall behind me I love it!

Well, my friend, S has been talking about venturing here for the seventeen course tasting menu for what seems like forever. At least since around the time we scheduled Coi.

welcome to Benu

We’ve been putting it off terribly, mainly because this place is expensive. The tasting for one person is $180, excluding wine, tip, tax, etc. A visit here isn’t an everyday event for most. Certainly we’re in the 99% and this was a real splurge.

They’re located in the South of Market neighborhood near Union Square in the space that formerly housed Hawthorne Lane restaurant. (It’s funny. I’ve lived in San Francisco long enough now that I occasionally know what was there before…)

the Benu kitchen overlooks the calming courtyard in front of the quiet restaurant

The décor is darker than in the last incarnation of the place, though quite elegant. Unlike some other very fancy dining establishments that I’ve had the good fortune of trying, Benu wasn’t stuffy (the staff, though impeccably dressed which sometimes seems forbidding, were quite approachable and even friendly) and the dining room actually had some things hanging on the walls (a decorating tip for you, Coi and Redd.)

We had a group of six and all arrived around the same time for a 6PM reservation on a Saturday. I ordered a 2005 Châteauneuf-du-Pape for John, Hegui and I to start. Two of the others had the wine pairing and the sixth, lovely Carey M, abstained. The wine was perfect and though it didn’t traditionally match the complex, frequently Asian-inspired menu, we enjoyed it well enough. Plus the sommelier said that it was the last bottle of this particular one they had, which made it seem that much more special.

thousand year-old quail egg, potage, ginger

oyster with kimchi

We brought home the menu. We three had the pescatarian one; the others, the “regular.” I’ll list everything here for you to get the idea:

thousand-year-old quail egg, potage, ginger
oyster with kimchi
potato salad with anchovy
sea urchin tofu with wild salmon roe
chilled porridge, abalone, matsutake mushroom, pine nut
monkfish liver, persimmon, turnip, mustard, brioche
celery, chestnut, green apple, yuzu
eel, feuille de brick, crème fraîche, lime
hearts of palm, date, ginseng
salt and pepper squid
lobster in two courses
xiao long bao
fresh noodles with fine herbes
salsify cassoulet with onion-black truffle bun
sea bas, cauliflower, sauerbrussels, pear
“shark”fin soup, Dungeness crab, black truffle custard
shiso, white chocolate, almond, pomegranate
spice cake, huckleberry, yogurt, oatmeal ice cream
chocolates

So there it is. Sounds mouthwatering, right?

potato salad with anchovy

sea urchin tofu with wild salmon roe

chilled porridge, abalone, matsutake mushroom, pine nut

The flavors were as diverse as they were exciting. Hegui and I skipped lunch as we knew that we’d be dining here. Turns out, that might have been a wee mistake. The portions are really small: a bite or maybe two for most. We’re used to eating a bit more heartily at home. And we eat starch at every meal. There really wasn’t too much of that to be had on this menu.

Other places have come up with elegant solutions to this problem. For example, our fave, the soon-to-be-closed-forever Cyrus, address the varying starch requirements of their patrons by offering incredible tiny rolls and breads, fresh from the oven, which they bring tableside throughout the meal. If you’re feeling it then by all means. Unfortunately there wasn’t something analogous here.

a random shot of my napkin which played such an important role later in the evening

Too bad for me. We’d been dining away for about four hours by the time the fourteenth or fifteenth course, my nemesis, the “shark” fin soup arrived. I was positively ravenous by then, and though I’d been cheerily snacking along with the rest of the crowd on these micro-portions of over-the-top masterful presentations of food, I felt as if I hadn’t had a thing to eat the whole time.

monkfish liver, persimmon, turnip, mustard, brioche

hearts of palm, date, ginseng

John looking chic

xiao long bao

salsify cassoulet with onion-black truffle bun

And then the soup…

shark’s fin soup, dungeness crab, black truffle custard

My first thought was that it didn’t seem salty enough for my taste. And I don’t particularly care for truffle, so I wasn’t that excited. Though still very hungry, I slurped it down as best I could. Sadly my stomach had other ideas. I started to feel funny in a not very good kind of way. And I started to perspire… a lot.

Next came the shiso, white chocolate dessert. This had to have been frozen in liquid nitrogen and shattered. It was icy cold in the tiny glass cup. I don’t know about you, but I think shiso is a decidedly acquired taste. Usually I have it as a somewhat unwelcome ingredient in the occasional sushi roll. I’d never have thought of putting it in ice cream or white chocolate or whatever that horrid thing was.

shiso, white chocolate, almond, pomegranate

Suddenly my stomach clamped down hard. That’s bad. I had to leave the restaurant, immediately. That was especially awkward since there were still two more courses, wine left in the bottle, we had yet to negotiate the bill and our friends were all there chatting away amiably, hopefully still oblivious to my abject misery.

I whisked myself out the door into the night. It was total hell. I’ll spare you the details of the next twenty minutes, but let’s just say, nature took its vile course. Hegui and Carey came to my rescue with fresh napkins (gorgeous heavy white cloth numbers). I painfully returned to table for the presentation of the stunning chocolate course but by then had lost all will to live. Hegui took me home and I went to bed immediately.

Despite the drama, I don’t regret going here (my credit card bill hasn’t yet arrived, so perhaps I’ll be singing a different tune later.) Dining at Benu was certainly a memorable experience. I think it is unlikely in the extreme that I shall ever return, but how knows? Stranger things have happened.