Gorgonzola + Spinach

I saw this today on Uppercase Woman... she calls it the final nail in the mommy blog coffin, posting a recipe, but since it contains spinach and gorgonzola (two things I love) she's totally forgiven!

Utterly and completely stolen from September's issue of Cooking Light Magazine, page 148. With my substitutions.

Ziti with Spinach, Cherry Tomatoes, and Gorgonzola Sauce

Total time: 40 minutes (I did it in 25)

4 oz uncooked ziti (I used pennetti)
1/2 teaspoon extra virgin olive oil (didn't have it, used canola)
1 cup cherry tomatoes, halved (used plum tomatoes, chopped)
1/4 teaspoon salt
1/8 teaspoon crushed red pepper (whatever, just shook some in there)
1 garlic clove, minced
6 tablespoons half-and-half
3 tablespoons Gorgonzola Cheese, crumbled
1 cup fresh spinach (I used baby)

Cook pasta according to direction, omitting salt and fat; drain.

Heat oil in large non-stick skillet (or the old one you have kicking around that no longer no-sticks) over medium heat. Add tomatoes, salt, crushed red pepper, and garlic to pan; cook one minute, stirring occasionally. Stir in half-and-half and Gorgonzola cheese; cook two minutes or until slightly thick, stirring constantly (or whenever you get the chance because a toddler is trying to climb onto the stove). Stir in spinach and pasta; cook one minute or until spinach wilts, tossing occasionally. Yield: two servings.

If you're me, you also take some of Trader Joe's pre-cooked grilled chicken breast and lay in attractively on top, until you trip over the dog getting it to the table and the chicken falls to the floor, at which point three dogs (because you're babysitting your BFF's dogs) all get it before you do and you have to go thaw more.

It's delicious. Enjoy.

Thanks, I will.

Via Uppercase Woman: The Final Nail in the Mommy Blog Coffin

I love Orangette

I saw this on Orangette, and I tried and tried to cut it down to a more scrapbook-y size (and less stalkerish size)

The summer before last, I had a run-in with one of our neighbors over a blackberry bush. I am not usually the type of person who has run-ins, much less run-ins over fruit-bearing vegetation, but she started it. Have I told you about our mean, nasty, blackberry-hoarding neighbor? No? Well, pull up a chair. And bring a spoon, because I have some blackberry frozen yogurt in the freezer, and unlike some people, I don’t mind sharing.


We had moved into our apartment only a couple of months before, and with summer heading into its fullest flush, we noticed a thicket of blackberry bushes in one corner of the backyard. Needless to say, this was very exciting. The best part was, they were huge. Our yard is fenced on only two sides, and the bushes were sufficiently large that, on one of the unenclosed sides, they formed a partial wall along the property line. As walls go, it was somewhat ugly and unkempt, but it was covered in blackberries. Covered.

So we started picking, and then we picked some more. We made blackberry sorbet and a batch of jam. One afternoon, I decided to make some scones, so I went out with an empty Tupperware to harvest a little more. I was hunched over, picking intently on our side of the bush-wall, daydreaming about baked goods and probably humming something innocent and uplifting, when I heard footsteps. I looked up to see our next-door neighbor, the one whose yard adjoins the bushes, marching across the lawn. She came to a stop a few feet away, looked me up and down, and then spat, “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

Stunned, I giggled nervously and explained that we had just moved in, and that I had this great scone recipe that my sister had given me, and that I wanted to make a batch with fresh blackberries, and giggle giggle giggle.

“Well, this is my bush,” she snapped. “I planted it. And I use it every summah to make blackberry cooorrdial.” [In my mind, when I replay our conversation, I give her an upper-class British accent, even though she doesn’t have one. I think it makes her seem especially stern, don’t you? Like a strict governess, or maybe Queen Elizabeth.]

I wish I could tell you that I had a smart retort at the ready, or that I shot her down by pointing out that this particular side of the bush fell on my property or that blackberries are, in this part of the country, a non-native invasive weed, not something that one generally plants. In fact, they are considered a Weed of Concern by King County - I love that term, “Weed of Concern” - and if she did indeed plant these bushes, my (tall, imposing) landlord would probably like to have a word with her and, possibly, request that she pay a gardener to remove the bushes from my side of the property line.

Unfortunately, I only thought of these things after I had skulked away and gone inside to lie down and contemplate the general cruelty of the universe. I also contemplated the Robert Frost poem “Mending Wall” and its wise line, “Good fences make good neighbors.” I love our delicate bush-wall, but for a minute there, I wished for something a little more substantial, like wood or brick or stone. Preferably with barbed wire on top.


Of course, I am able to tell you this now because our neighbor is no longer our neighbor. She still owns the property next door, but she moved out about a year ago and rented it to a couple of girls who are not only nice, but whose wardrobes and hair I covet. And last Friday afternoon, when it was scorchingly hot and all the blackberries were fat and warm, I took my Tupperware and went picking. I came back inside a half hour later with one pound of berries - having also, in that time, had a very nice conversation, pet a cute pug, been invited to a party, and received a glass of lemonade. I feel much better about everything.

Via Orangette: Good neighbors

Sweet and Sour Pork

I saw this today on the Chinese Food Blog. While I spent most of my time in China trying not to eat Chinese food, now that I'm home I like Chinese food. I guess I can't eat the same thing every day, no matter what it is.

Looks like it can be slightly altered to make sweet & sour chicken, as well.

Here is a quick and easy recipe of Sweet and Sour Pork (Cantononese Style) for you to prepare at home.

Ingredients
1 tbsp oil
½ pork tenderloin (or fillet), cut into 1in cubes
pinch of salt and freshly ground black pepper
2.5cm/1in piece of root ginger, finely grated
1 tomato, diced
½ red (and yellow and green) chilli, diced

For the sweet and sour sauce
3 oranges, juice only
1 tbsp dark soy sauce
2 tbsp rice vinegar (or white wine vinegar)
1 tsp cornflour
1 tbsp tomato sause
2 tbsp sugar (brown sugar or honey instead); 1/2 tsp salt

Method :

1. Mix the pork cubes with salt & Brandy & leave to marinade for 30 mins (or longer).

2. Drain the Pork using a slotted spoon, or a sieve, and reserve the marinade; Stir the cornflour, rice vinegar, tomato sauce and suguar (or honey) into the marinade.

3. Mix the sauce ingredients together in a bowl.

4. Heat the oil in a wok to 180 degree C or 350 degree F or until a cube of bread browns in 30 seconds. Add the pork cubes and deep fry for 3 minutes, then remove and drain on paper towels. Heat the oil again until smoking, return the pork fry for 2 minutes or until they are golden brown. Remove and drain on paper towels.

5. Now heat a pan and add the sauce mix and heat till slightly thick.

6. Mix the sauce with the meat & vegetable just before serving. A delicious sweet and sour pork dish is ready to serve now.

Via Sweet and Sour Pork Recipe (Cantononese Style) | Chinese Food Blog

Poor Arugula

Poor arugula has been getting a bad rap recently as elitist food. I didn't know that rocket was up with, say, caviar and foie gras, but I have been feeling pretty classy putting in it salads and sandwiches!

Anyway, here's a not-political discussion from Slate's arugula lovers.

It’s tasty. Let me rephrase that: It has a taste—as opposed to regular lettuce, which often seems chemically engineered to have all the properties of air, plus texture. (Hydrogen actually has four states: solid, liquid, gas and lettuce.) One salad seller described arugula’s flavor to me as "nutty and peppery." Others call it "peppery-mustardy." The disagreement makes it versatile as a salad base, one flavor in a mix, or as a garnish. (Just ask Olive Garden.)

It’s healthy. On the nutrition spectrum, arugula falls somewhere between iceberg lettuce and spinach. It’s rich in vitamins A and C, with even more calcium than spinach. It also packs nearly twice the calories of iceberg lettuce—after eating arugula, you actually feel like you’ve eaten. (Plus, if you look at cost per calorie instead of per ounce, their costs are much closer.)

It’s popular. Haters tend to lump arugula in with caviar, filet mignon, and Grey Goose as if it’s rare delicacy only swells can afford. Indeed, arugula itself makes up only 1 percent of pre-washed salad sales, according to AC Nielsen. But "tender leaf salads," those mixes that tend to include arugula, represent 25 percent of salad sales—more than iceberg lettuce’s 22 percent market share. So even if arugula alone isn’t sinking the iceberg, all those other fancy salads are.

It’s American. Arugula originated in the Mediterranean and came to America via Italy. But when it became popular in the 1970s, American salad entrepreneurs started growing it in the United States along with other non-domestic greens. "We smuggled in some radicchio seeds from Italy and gave ‘em to this farmer in Pennsylvania," Joel Dean of Dean & DeLuca told author David Kamp. "And it all came up green." Nowadays, most of the arugula you see in the supermarket comes from California.

It’s an aphrodisiac. OK, so that might be hearsay. But you hear it said a lot. "I once got a call on our consumer line from some 18 year old boys trying to verify that," says Samantha Cabaluna of Earthbound Farm. There’s a reason they call it "rocket."

Via Trailhead : It’s Not Easy Being a Leafy Green

$100 For Food Bloggers

Came across this contest today, thought I'd pass it along.

BigOven.com gets much better for everyone the more photos that are submitted.

That's why we're giving away a $100 Amazon.com Gift Certificate every month for the very best recipe photo submitted, as judged by our CEO and Founder. (Lakefront Software Inc. employees, immediate friends and family are ineligible for the monthly prize.)

So get out your camera and start shooting! And spread the word to any shutterbugs you know!

It's completely free to enter. To post a photo online, simply visit the appropriate recipe page on http://www.bigoven.com/ (or post your own new recipe to the archive, free!), look on the right hand side, and click "Submit Photo". You can submit photos for recipes that are already online, or post new recipes with new photos. You can also take better photos of those recipes that already have photos. While these are just as eligible to win the monthly $100 Gift Certificate, we'd prefer to fill out more recipe entries with photos.

Here's are a few things that might be handy in your quest for the $100 monthly prize:

• List of recently submitted photos
• Some tips on great food photography
• A link to our Food Photography Forum

Via $100 Awarded Each Month to the Best Recipe Photo Posted On BigOven.com! - BigOven