Two-potato vindaloo (Plenty)

• 8 cardamom pods
• 1 tbsp cumin seeds
• 1 tbsp coriander seeds
• 1/2 tsp cloves
• 1/4 tsp ground tumeric
• 1 tsp sweet paprika
• 1 tsp ground cinnamon
• 2 tbsp vegetable oil
• 12 shallots (about 10 oz in total), chopped
• 1/2 tsp brown mustard seeds
• 1/2 tsp fenugreek seeds [Although I didn't take the time to look when I was recently in NYC, I've only been able to find ground fenugreek in Boston]
• 25 curry leaves
• 2 tbsp chopped fresh ginger [I made this on Lockdown Day here in Boston after the marathon.  My ginger was all dried up.  I used maybe a tablespoon of the powdered stuff.]
• 1 fresh red chile, finely chopped
• 3 ripe tomatoes, peeled and roughly chopped
• 1/4 cup cider vinegar
• 1 3/4 cups water
• 1 tbsp sugar
• salt
• 2 1/2 cups peeled waxy potatoes, cut into 1-inch dice
• 2 small red bell peppers, cut into 1-inch dice
• 2 1/2 cups peeled sweet potatoes, cut into 1-inch dice
• mint or cilantro leaves to serve [Nope]

Dry roasting the spices. Yes, I also ground these in a mortar and pestle.

Mise en place.

Saute shallots and mustard seeds until the shallots brown.  The fenugreek seeds would go in here if I had any.

Add spice mix, curry leaves, ginger, and chile and cook for a further 3 minutes.

Add tomatoes, vinegar, water, sugar, and some salt and simmer for 20 minutes. Add potatoes and bell peppers and simmer for 20 minutes.

Add sweet potatoes and simmer for 40 minutes or until potatoes are tender.  Uncover the pot and leave to reduce for 10 minutes.

Another great dish from Yotam Ottolenghi's Plenty.  I don't think I've made a vindaloo before with such perfectly balanced flavors.

And that's a wrap on this three entry series.

Swiss chard, chickpea, and tamarind stew (Plenty)

• 4 tbsp seedless tamarind pulp [Too lazy to seek this out in some crazy market.  Super 88 if they have any is too much of a trek.]
• 1 lb Swiss chard (stalks and leaves), cut into 3/8-inch slices
• 1 1/2 tsp coriander seeds
• 1 medium onion, thinly sliced
• 2 tsp caraway seeds
• 1 1/2 tbsp olive oil, plus extra to finish
• 1 tsp tomato paste
• one 14-oz can chopped plum tomatoes, with their juices
• 1 1/2 cup water
• 1 1/2 tbsp sugar
• 2 1/2 cups freshly cooked chickpeas (or a 14-oz can, drained)
• salt and black pepper
• juice of 1 lemon
• 1 cup Greek yogurt (optional) [Nope]
• generous handful cilatro leaves
• 1 3/4 cups short-grain rice
• 1 1/2 tbsp butter
• 3 cups water

Toasting the coriander seeds.  I'm sure I could've easily just whizzed them in the coffee grinder, but I decided to do what Ottolenghi said and broke out the mortar and pestle.

Mise en place.

Blanching the chard in salted water.

There were some steps in here, but it seems like I figured to only photograph very few of them.  Basically this is a bowl with practically everything in it except for the cilantro and lemon and...

Rice pilaf.  Which strikes me as far more foolproof a way of cooking rice on a stovetop than normal rice.  Not like I do that since I have a rice cooker.

Very good dish.  I only added the juice of half of a lemon since I thought the dish was quite sour enough as is.  I guess I didn't have cilantro this time around.

This is also a weird culinary mash-up since I'm pretty sure they don't use tamarind in the middle east.

Brussels sprouts and tofu (Plenty)

• 2 tbsp sweet chile sauce
• 1 1/2 tbsp soy sauce
• 3 tbsp toasted sesame oil
• 1 tsp rice vinegar
• 1 tbsp maple syrup
• 5 oz firm tofu
• 1 lb Brussels sprouts
• about 3/4 cup sunflower oil
• salt
• 1 cup sliced green onions
• 1/2 small fresh red chile, deseeded and finely chopped
• 1 1/2 cups shiitake mushrooms, halved or quartered
• 1 cup cilantro leaves
• 1 tbsp toasted sesame seeds

I once bought a stalk of these from Trader Joe's with no specific recipe in mine. It basically occupied space in my fridge until I had to throw it out.

This time I was shopping for brussels sprouts and even though it probably still living in the fridge for about a week I still was able to actually use it.

I left the mushrooms out at room temperature in a sealed bag for a couple days.  Unsurprisingly much of it went bad on me.  I inevitably wish there had been more shiitakes in the dish.

Mise en place.

Browning the sprouts.

Saute the onions, chile, and mushrooms for 1 to 2 minutes.

Browning the marinated tofu.

Toasting sesame seeds.

Honestly I don't think this dish that Ottolenghi created references any specific Asian cuisine.  There's there's the Chinese-ish glaze that the marinated is reduced down to, but the cilantro is hella Southeast Asia but such a natural pairing with with the flavors in the dish.  And where in Asia exactly do they use maple syrup in their stir-fries.

If I ever make it out to London, I clearly have to eat somewhere Ottolenghi.  And St. Johns as well I guess.

A Very Full Tart

Another one from Yotam Ottolenghi, but let's start off with:

Flaky Piecrust (HCEV)

• 1 cup plus 2 tablespoons all-purpose flour, plus more for rolling
• 1/2 teaspoon salt
• 8 tablespoons (1 stick) cold unsalted butter, cut into about 8 pieces
• 3 tablespoons ice water, plus more if necessary

Mise.  New bag of unbleached all-purpose flour in play.

Butter, flour, and salt.

Processed until it resembles cornmeal.

Knead with ice water until it forms a cohesive mass.

No expert yet at rolling out crusts.

I may also not have made enough pie crust for the following recipe, but I did my best pushing it up the sides of my first spring-form cake pan (I couldn't find a springform tart pan).

Draped with parchment paper and filled with a bag of dried black beans I had lying around.

Which didn't seem to be enough weight.  When I poured the black beans out into a jar for next time, I added some black-eyed peas I had open.  I thought it was weird that the crust was so golden already.

After uncovering the crust and seeing how burnt it was, I realized I had forgotten to turn the heat down in the over after roasting vegetables (see below).  Oh well.

A Very Full Tart

• 1 red bell pepper
• 1 yellow bell pepper
• about 6 tbsp olive oil
• 1 medium eggplant, cut into 2-inch dice
• salt and black pepper
• 1 small sweet potato, peeled and cut into 1-inch dice
• 1 small zucchini, cut into 1-inch dice
• 2 medium onions, thinly sliced
• 2 bay leaves
• 11 oz pie crust dough
• 8 thyme sprigs, leaves picked
• 1/3 cup ricotta
• 4 1/4 oz feta
• 7 cherry tomatoes, halved
• 2 medium eggs
• 1 cup heavy cream

Mise en place.  Including that ball of dough.

Vegetables prepped for their trip through the oven.

I forgot to take a picture of when I added the sweet potato but they went in after the eggplant had been in their for 12 minutes, followed by the zucchini for another 10-12 minutes

Peppers peeled and torn into strips.

Onions and bay leaves cooked over medium until dark brown.

Veggies ready to go.

The onions go in the bottom of the tart.  Followed by the roasted vegetables.  Guess I forgot the peppers had been roasted as well.

Topped by the cheese and tomatoes.  And the peppers.  The eggs and cream are whisked together and poured over.  Thyme is divided into two layers.  The tart is returned to the oven and baked until set.

Trista said she thought the tart must have been very expensive to make, but there isn't really anything pricey about it.  Maybe the cheeses lended themselves to a richness that could have come with a bigger pricetag.
Maybe I would have wanted something more complicated than thyme going on, but it was still a rather good dish.  Pretty looking for my first springform tart.  The varying textures and flavors of the roasted veggies were great and the tomatoes added brightness and acidity.

The Ultimate Winter Couscous

from Yotam Ottolenghi's Plenty

• 2 medium carrots, peeled and cut into 3/4-inch chunks
• 2 medium parsnips, peeled and cut into 3/4 inch chunks
• 8 shallots
• 2 cinnamon sticks
• 4 star anise
• 3 bay leaves
• 5 tbsp olive oil
• salt
• 1/2 tsp ground ginger
• 1/4 tsp ground tumeric
• 1/4 tsp hot paprika
• 1/2 tsp chile flakes
• 2 1/2 cups cubed pumpkin or butternut squash (from a 10 oz squash)
• 1/2 cup dried apricots, roughly chopped
• 1 cup chickpeas (canned or freshly cooked) [I went with canned]
• 1 1/2 cups chickpea cooking liquid and/or water
• 1 cup couscous
• large pinch saffron
• 1 cup boiling vegetable stock
• 3 tbsp butter, broken into pieces
• 2 tbsp harissa
• 1 oz preserved lemon, finely chopped
• 2 cups cilantro leaves

Bake carrots, parsnips, shallots, spices, 4 tablespoons oil and 3/4 teaspoon salt at 375 degrees F for15 minutes.

Add, in my case, butternut squash.  This along with the parsnips and the milk from the mac and cheese were all bought at the Boston Local Food Festival I went to with Ori a few weekends ago.

Bake for another 35 minutes.

Add apricots and chickpeas and bake until hot.

Mise en place up until right before the last photo.

Prepare couscous and melt a lot of butter in.

Put vegetable mixture over couscous and cover it with a veritable carpet of cilantro leaves.  Additionally, harissa and preserved lemon are mixed into the vegetables after they have left the oven.
I actually really liked this dish without wondering where the meat was.
Apparently some lady complained to UK paper the Guardian (where Ottolenghi has a vegetarian column although he isn't one) that the dish had too many ingredients.  I find that somewhat laughable.  If a cook is ambitious enough this dish shouldn't be that out of reach.

Panade (New York Times)

I will on occasion do dishes I come across while reading the NYT Sunday Magazine (Asado Negro, Bulgogi Sloppy Joe's, I bought Plenty by Yotam Ottolenghi sort of because Mark Bittman told me to). I bookmarked Panade way back in September 2010 and came across it again a month or two ago. At the time I revisited the dish, I wasn't really in the mood for the richness it suggested, but things have changed and I still found the dish thrilling.

• 6 tablespoons butter
• 2 leeks, white parts only, finely chopped (about 1½ cups)
• 6 cups whole milk
• Salt
• 4-6 slices day-old country bread, each 1 inch thick [Later I kind of assumed they must have meant some sort of artisinal white bread instead of straight-supermarket country-style, sliced white bread.]
  
• 1 small butternut squash (about 1 pound), peeled, seeded and cut into ¼-inch-thick slices
• 1 bunch black kale or Swiss chard, center stems removed [Grabbed some red kale instead at Symphony's Whole Foods.]
  
• 1 head cauliflower (about 1½ pounds), trimmed and cut into ½-inch-thick slices
• ½ pound fontina cheese, thinly sliced [Did the best I could using the widest setting on my mandoline. I wasn't about to put any more effort into this, thanks.]
  
• Heavy cream, optional.

Breaking out my Cuisinart Multi-Clad 8 Quart Stockpot. At about $210, it's a way better deal than the jaw-droppingly expensive yet cult-worthy All-Clad set which will set you back a cool $1,175.25. Less straight forward when it comes to cleaning it than normal pots and pans so I usually only break it out when I know I have to shove one in the oven.
Also starring my trusty chef's knife and my mandoline makes its first appearance on my blog.


My mountainous mise-en-place.


A layer of bread, the squash layer, and two cups of milk mixture (butter, milk, leeks, salt) pour over. The last of these smells amazing.


More bread, kale, cauliflower, and the rest of the milk mixture. Sure, the recipe doesn't call for freshly ground black pepper, but it's probably the spice I use most often. I love it, and if it seemed out of place here (Shouldn't I have some idea by now?) , I wouldn't have dared.


What it looks like in the pan. A bit moister than I thought but this can be attributed to pouring a full half-gallon of milk into the saucepan rather than noting that it called for 2 cups less. I didn't want to brown the cheese anymore.


Probably won't make this again (I'll be eating it for the next few days anyway), but it was good and rich and complex and had a nice assortment of veggies. I don't make most things more than once; it wasn't a outright failure and it smelled pretty damn good at various points.