GASTRONORMOUS

The Hubs went out to walk the dog last Saturday morning and came back in carrying a big butternut squash. Before I could be all like, “wha…?” he explained that he had stopped by the farmer’s market, where he spotted the beaut’ and bought it on a whim. As he beamed at his purchase, I admit the corners of my mouth turned down just a tad.

I have mixed feelings about this vegetable. I mean, not this particular one, but in general. I love to eat butternut squash, but I loathe to cook it.  Most people, of course, have their vegetable banes. For many it is the onion or hot pepper, which can cause physical discomfort. For others it is mushrooms, which need to be cleaned finickily (no, that isn’t actually a word, but you know what I mean). For some others there are things like the celery root, which are so intimidating and ugly they look like no possible good can come of them. But for me, it is the butternut (and other hard-shelled) squash.

First, there is the death-defying process of cutting that sucker open: you need a huge sharp knife and all the brute force you can muster to cut through this gourd as it rolls around on your chopping board. Then you need to clean out the slimy seeds and stringy bits that refuse to detach from the squash meat. Then you need to peel it, and I will take this moment to remind you that the butternut is not only really thick-skinned, but also shaped like a giant peanut, factors which do not make for easy peeling. From there on, it isn’t too bad: roast it (or you could roast it in the skin, I suppose), sautée it, boil it in a soup…. But it is the prep that daunts me. That said, there is definitely a sense of accomplishment I experience after cooking this squash that I don’t get from cooking, say, zucchini.

And so I persevered…well, I procrastinated until Wednesday, when I persevered. I must have been feeling particularly plucky because I decided to make up a recipe, rather than follow a recipe from my cookbook library or from my favorite online recipe resource, Epicurious. Hubs called me on his way home to ask if I needed anything from the store. Put on the spot, I extemporaneously asked for fresh sage and blue cheese. My thought was to make a roasted butternut squash and sage pasta topped with crumbled blue cheese. Sounds delish, no?

I decided to cube the squash before roasting. This way it would roast faster, but also there would be a higher proportion of caramelization in each bite of squash in the dish. Half the squash made about 5 cups of cubes, which was enough, so I left the other half whole and decided to roast it to use some other day evening the road. I tossed the cubes with some fresh sage, olive oil, and balsamic vinegar, which I thought would add more sticky, rich, sweetness without adding sugar. Then I roasted the heck out of it.

In the meantime, I changed my mind about the base of the dish, opting for red quinoa rather than pasta. I cooked that using vegetable broth rather than water to add a little more flavor, but otherwise cooked according to package directions.

About halfway through the roasting process, I basted the squash with some leftover vegetable stock (trying to recreate the effect this technique had on some great roasted vegetables the Hubs once made), and then added in some dried cranberries and pecans. When the squash was almost done, I tasted it to see if it needed salt. It didn’t (the broth provided enough), but I did grind a little black pepper over it.

Once the squash was done, I plated the quinoa, put some squash on top, then topped it all with some more fresh sage and a little sprinkling of blue cheese. The result of all this effort was a little…underwhelming. The flavors just didn’t work well together, unfortunately. In theory, they really should: earthy quinoa, sweet butternut squash, crunchy pecans, fresh sage, sharp, creamy blue cheese. It sounds like a winsome combination, but it just wasn’t. Sigh! I guess not every dish can be a winner.

A silver lining: the butternut squash on its own was truly delicious. With the sage, cranberries, and pecans, it tasted of the essence of the Thanksgiving meal. And then it dawned on me: this recipe (sans quinoa and cheese), mixed with cubed bread, would make an awesome stuffing!

This Aha! moment alone made the trouble of preparing and the near-mediocrity in eating this meal more than worth it. I am not cooking for Thanksgiving this year, but who says you have to wait until then to make stuffing? Look at me: I am actually inviting, indeed, hastening towards, a new butternut-squash cooking experience! Call me an enigma, wrapped in a mystery, wrapped in a steel-hard, peanut-shaped shell. Or: A hard (butter)nut to crack.

Saganaki means fried cheese. More or less. But the type of cheese used, and how is is prepared, varies across the Mediterranean. At many places in Athens, for example, saganaki means deep-fried feta. In other places it is pan-fried kefalotyri or kasseri. Although in Cyprus grilled halloumi is not usually listed on the menu by the name saganaki, that is technically what it is.

When my friend Karen and her husband came over Saturday night, I decided to make an unusual form of saganaki that she would likely appreciate. It is based on saganaki I ordered at a little taverna in the harbor town of Kamariotissa on Samothrace, during one of two summers I spent working at the archaeological site of the Sanctuary of the Great Gods (you are probably familiar with one object found there). Karen had also worked there for a summer, and I thought she may have visited this taverna, where they wrapped a hunk of feta in foil along with some oregano, thin strips of small red and yellow peppers, and a splash of olive oil. It was served still wrapped in the foil, and what a delight it was to unfold it and indulge at that little outdoor table.

So this was approximately what I made for my guests Saturday night, with a few modifications:

Serving food wrapped in foil may be charming on the veranda of a little taverna next to the ferry landing, but I didn’t think it would quite work in my Brooklyn living room. So, I filled a low shallow ceramic dish with a thick layer of feta, drizzled it with olive oil, sprinkled on a bit of oregano and black pepper (no salt!), and some paper-thin slices of jalapeno. (I was going to do strips of pepper, as in the original, but I thought the round slices looked pretty, so I left them that way.)

I covered the dish with foil and baked it in 350 degree oven until bubbly, then I uncovered and baked it for five minutes. I let is sit on the counter for a few minutes more before serving so as not to scald my guests!

When they arrived I asked Karen if she remembered the unusual saganaki in Samothrace. She responded excitedly that not only did she remember it, but that she still dreamt about it. I asked her what she remembered it being like, because I wanted to make sure I wasn’t forgetting any little authentic detail, and she went on to explain a totally different dish. It sounded more like the pan-fried kefolatyri type. She said she had eaten it at “you know, that place with the tree….”

Oh, yes, the place with the tree. I never had the saganaki there, so this is a bit of a digression, but this restaurant called Sotiros is located high above the main town of Samothrace, or Chora, and is a truly magical place. The seating is mostly if not all outdoors, on a cobbled terrace dominated by a huge, ancient tree. There are lights strung, there are locals drinking beer and being merry, there is their famous chicken in paper being eaten, and if you go at the right time, there is the most beautiful sunset you have ever seen. If you ever find yourself on Samothrace, be sure to stop by Sotiros. You’ll have to ask a local how to get there, it isn’t very straightforward.

In the end, the saganaki iteration I made was not the same as the one Karen had dreamt of, but that didn’t keep everyone from raving about it. On top of being tasty, it is really simple to prepare, and would be a great addition to your appetizer spread (it is great alongside hummus!). I hope you try this recipe and enjoy it!

I don’t know about your local farmer’s market (or backyard garden), but this year my market has been selling the most gorgeous heirloom tomatoes. Last week I bought some small and intensely flavored Black Prince variety tomatoes, some big and sweet Great Whites, and plump and juicy Red Brandywines.  With this sudden glut of tomatoes in my fridge, I decided to do two riffs on one of my favorite uses for fresh tomatoes: the caprese.

The list of ingredients for these two salads is almost identical, but you will find that the sum of their parts add up quite differently.

Gastronormous Caprese

Many caprese recipes do not call for balsamic, but I find that, used in moderation, it adds a little something special to this now commonplace Italian menu item.

If you happen to have a bottle of 40 year-aged balsamic languishing in your cupboard, by all means use it here. But if a $100 bottle of vinegar is not in your price range, do it my way: use a reduction of grocery store balsamic. The result of reducing the vinegar might not fool the palate in a head-to-head taste test against the real thing, but I promise this thick, rich, and sweet substitute will wow your cocktail party guests (or, you know, your spouse)!

1 cup balsamic vinegar
approx. 1 lb piece of fresh mozzarella (a bit bigger than a baseball)
1-2 heirloom tomatoes, depending on size (I used half a Great White and a whole Black Prince)
10-14 large fresh basil leaves
2 T good quality extra virgin olive oil
salt and pepper

Heat balsamic in a small saucepan over medium-high heat until boiling. Immediately reduce heat to low and simmer without stirring until vinegar is the color and thickness of dark molasses, about 15 minutes.Take off heat and let cool to room temperature (do not refrigerate!).

Slice tomatoes and cheese into 3/8-inch slices. Cut these in vertical halves (this is optional–it looks a little more elegant if the pieces are kept whole, but it is easier for guests to serve themselves and eat if smaller; if the tomatoes are small, do not cut slices in half). Lay out slices of tomatoes and cheese on the cutting board and sprinkle with salt and freshly ground pepper (taste the mozz first–if it is really salty, just use pepper; be sure to salt the tomatoes, though–it helps draw out the juices).

Arrange the tomato and cheese slices in an alternating pattern on a serving platter. Slip a basil leaf between each layer (ie, tomato-basil-cheese-basil-tomato, etc.). Drizzle with olive oil. Drizzle with just a couple teaspoons of the reduced balsamic and serve (do this right before serving or else the balsamic will be absorbed by the cheese and won’t look as pretty!).

Serves 4-6. Serve with (toasted) bread, if desired.

Brooklyn Panzanella

This is really a cross between a traditional bruchetta, which doesn’t include cheese, and a panzanella, which generally utilizes a lot more olive oil than I call for here. Here, the tomatoes are the true star, and the fresh mozzarella plays a supporting, but essential, role. Because the tomatoes are cubed they release a lot more juice than when cut into thick steaks for caprese, and that juice helps create a very flavorful dressing.

3 c heirloom tomatoes, medium dice ( I used Great Whites and Red Brandywines)
1 small garlic clove, minced*
1/4 cup basil leaves, torn (or chiffonade, if you are feeling fancy)
3 T extra virgin olive oil
1 T balsamic vinegar
salt and pepper
1 c cubed fresh mozarella
12 3/4-inch slices of baguette

Toss together tomatoes, garlic, basil, oil, and vinegar. Season to taste with salt and pepper, and give another quick toss. Cover and refrigerate for at least 20 minutes but not longer than 3 hours. Before serving add cheese and toss well, ensuring that it is coated with the tomato-y dressing that formed through maceration.

Arrange 3 slices of bread on a small plate and top with about one cup of the salad. Spoon some extra dressing over the top. Drizzle with a little extra olive oil. Repeat with the rest of the bread and salad.

Serves 4.

*Resist the temptation to go for a larger clove–you don’t want the garlic to overpower the sweet tomato flavor.

I love homemade baked macaroni and cheese. I have tried many recipes over the years and have taken the things I liked out of many of them, and threw in some personal touches, to create my own unique recipe.  The problem with having your own personal, and might I add, unwritten, recipe, is that it is more likely for some element to be forgotten and for things to go awry. Such was the case a week and a half ago when the Hubs and I hosted the Predicate for an evening of Project Runway viewing and mac and cheese eating.

Where things went wrong was with the roux. I thought I had remembered that I usually put one tablespoon of flour into the roux for each cup of milk that would go into the béchamel, so I put in five tablespoons of flour for five cups of milk. Maybe I was just being impatient, but after a few minutes, the béchamel was not thickening. Knowing that adding raw flour to a béchamel can make the sauce taste, well, floury, I was hesitant to add more, but didn’t know what else to do, so mixed up one more tablespoon with a bit of milk and added it to the mix. Still no thickening action. Shucks. I added one more tablespoon. It got very thick very quickly, but, as I feared, tasted floury. I thought the cheese might cover up the taste of flour so I took the sauce beyond the point of no return and added all the cheese, only to find the floury taste remained.

I think it probably would have been okay with just the one extra tablespoon of flour and a bit more patience! It was a bit less floury after baking, and The Predicate (I suspect out of kindness) said it didn’t taste floury to her, but the Hubs and I were both dissatisfied. Luckily, when we reheated it the next day for a dinner of leftovers, the floury taste was magically gone, so it wasn’t a totally wasted effort. In any case, the recipe below accounts for an extra tablespoon of flour. But if you have a béchamel recipe that works for you, by all means, use that as a starting point for this recipe.

When making baked macaroni and cheese, it is essential to use a soft, creamy cheese, and is best to use a soft creamy cheese in combination with a harder, sharper, cheese to impart more complex flavor. I have used all sorts of combinations, but this time I used smoked gouda (which the Predicate said added a yummy bacony flavor) in combination with asiago and parmesan. Some recipes call for less cheese than this does, but I find one pound of cheese to one pound of pasta works best (a suggestion I picked up from America’s Test Kitchen, and they should know). Macaroni and cheese in any form is not a health food, so go ahead and go for the gold, I say. (And don’t worry, Mom, we ate it with a vegetable!)

The hidden surprise of tomatoes was a little trick I learned from one of my favorite all-time chefs: Jacques Pepin. (Though I put more tomato in my recipe than he does.) The spicy breadcrumb topping is my invention, as is the idea of shredding the butter (most mac and cheese recipes call for daubs of butter to be placed on top, but I think shredding leads to better distribution of butter, which in turn leads to more crispiness!) I hope you enjoy it!

Gastronormous Macaroni and Cheese

1 lb of cavatappi, elbows, or penne
1 large tomato, chopped in a medium dice

2 T butter
2 T olive oil
6 T flour
5 cups milk
salt and pepper
1 lb of cheese, in a combination of your choice (at least half a pound should be a soft, creamy cheese), in a small/medium dice or shredded

1 c plain breadcrumbs (not panko)
3/4 c grated (not shredded) parmesan cheese
2 tsp cayenne pepper (or more, to your taste)
1 tsp garlic powder
1 tsp onion powder
salt and pepper
4 T butter, shredded on a cheese shredder and refrigerated

Boil pasta in a generous amount of salted water. Cook for a minute or two less than package directions. Drain and spread in a large casserole dish. Spread tomatoes over the top and then sort of tuck the tomatoes in, so that they are not completely on top of the pasta.

In the meantime, heat the butter and oil over medium heat. When melted but not bubbling, add the flour and whisk vigorously and continuously until a smooth paste is formed and keep cooking (and whisking) for a few minutes more (but do NOT let it brown). Add about a 1/4 cup of milk and whisk until sooth, then add the rest of the milk in a slow, steady stream, whisking the whole time. Add salt and pepper, to taste. Cook (whisking fairly often) over medium heat until the sauce has thickened, 5-10 minutes. Add cheese and stir until melted. Pour sauce over pasta and tomatoes.

Combine breadcrumbs, grated cheese, and spices in a small bowl. Taste and adjust seasonings if desired. Add shredded butter and toss lightly with a fork (if made ahead, keep in fridge until ready to use so that butter retains its shape)). Spread mixture evenly over the top of the pasta, and bake in an oven preheated to 350 degrees for about 30 minutes, or until the top is crispy and sauce is bubbling. Let stand for a minute or two before serving.

Serves 6-8 people.

Note 1 : I used a pasta shape called cavatappi (also called cellentani), which is a ridged tube pasta in a spiral shape. It is great shape for cream sauces because they really grip to the pasta well.

Note 2: I am a fan of panko bread crumbs in general, but here they just don’t work. They don’t have the heft that is necessary to settle into the sauce.

The inspiration for making this dish was two-fold. First, I went to the great little French restaurant in my neighborhood, Ici, for brunch a couple weekends ago, and I had the quinoa with roasted vegetables and pesto, which was really simple and delicious. Second, when I talked on the phone with my Mom last weekend, she told me about a bulgur recipe she makes, and it sounded like a healthy and simple weeknight meal. When I went to the store to buy the bulgur, I spied the quinoa and it occurred to me that it would be a slightly exotic stand-in for the bulgur wheat from Mom’s recipe.

Quinoa looks, tastes, and cooks like a grain, but is actually the seed produced by a flowering plant (of the Goosefoot or Chenopodium family, which in turn is related to Amaranthaceae, or spinach family, in case you are into botany). It is native to Peru, and has a long history there: it was reportedly revered by the Incas. Unlike beans, which must be paired with rice to make a complete amino acid profile, quinoa is a complete protein containing all nine essential amino acids. It is also packed with vitamins and high in fiber. And have I mentioned it is darned tasty?

The following recipe is basically the one my Mom gave me over the phone (substituting the bulgur for quinoa), and I duplicated it from memory, so forgive me, Mom, if it is at all wrong!

“Mom’s” Quick Quinoa

1 cup quinoa, rinsed and picked over
1 tomato, chopped
1 small onion, sliced thin
1 large clove garlic, minced
2 tsp olive oil
1/4 tsp rosemary, rubbed between your hands
1/4 tsp basil
1/4 tsp oregano
salt and pepper, to taste
2 cups broth (or water with bouillon)
1 cup chopped flat leaf parsley

After rinsing quinoa in a fine mesh sieve and picking out any foreign debris, place sieve in a bowl and fill with water. Let quinoa soak while you do chop the veggies and do the following:

Saute onions in the oil over medium heat until they reduce in size and start to brown (almost caramelized, but not quite), adding the garlic after about 5 minutes. Add tomato and spices and cook a few minutes more.
Drain the quinoa really well, then add to the pan. Stir around until much of the water has evaporated. Add broth, bring to a boil, cover and cook for 12-16 minutes until the quinoa is done (which you only know for sure by tasting!). It should be chewy but not crunchy when done. Taste and adjust seasoning if necessary. Right before serving, stir in the parley.

It is yummy on its own, but would also be delicious garnished with sour cream or plain yogurt and/or cherry tomatoes. This would be great as a side or main dish. You could serve it with a salad, quesadillas (what we did–see pic below), steamed vegetables, soup, you name it, be creative!

Serves 4 generously.

I knew the Hubs would be working late last night, so I wanted to prepare something that I could eat when I wanted, but would also be enjoyable hours later when he came home. After some mild brain-racking and multiple fridge-surveys, I finally decided on a new take on my curried lentil and chick pea salad, and to go with it, some chutney and cheddar grilled sandwiches. I am not generally a big sandwich-for-dinner person, but on this particularly hot and muggy evening, I wanted to make something easy, filling, and requiring only a minimum of stove time, and a salad and grilled sandwiches fit that bill.

The salad recipe isn’t worth repeating here as it utilizes basically the same ingredients and technique as before, but with a couple additions, and slightly different proportions. The dish is really quite malleable and hard to mess up, so if you want to try this, I encourage you to play with my original recipe, using whatever additions or substitutions that sound good to you.

Varying from the original, I used a little less mayo and more oil and vinegar, plus I used white navy beans in place of both lentils and chick peas, I left out the artichoke hearts, and added lots of carrots and celery (in a small dice). The resulting dish had an about equal ratio of carrots, celery, and beans. The salad was delicious, and had a great, satisfying crunch provided by the heavy addition of fresh veggies. We ate this salad two nights in a row, and it was even better the second night! So go ahead and make it in advance if you can plan ahead better than I!

If you have ever had a ploughman’s lunch at a pub, you know what Branston Pickle is. It is actually more of a chutney than what Americans think of as a pickle, but it goes really well with cheese. When I eyed the jar of mango chutney I happened to have in the refrigerator, I thought of the ploughman’s flavor combo, and decided to give it a spin on the grill, along with some aged cheddar cheese and some hearty pumpernickel bread. It was really tasty, and the vaguely Indian-ish flavors paired well with my curried bean salad. This combo of cheese and chutney would also be great as a quesadilla or on some crusty white bread.

I was able to prepare everything for the sandwiches in advance, so that when the Hubs came home, it was just a matter of firing up my trusty grill, and throwing the sandwich on it for a few minutes. It ended up being a quick and tasty meal, one that would only have been more enjoyable if he and I had eaten it together!

Some grilled cheese tips.

• Spread a really thin schmear of softened butter on the outside-facing side of each slice of bread (rather than putting butter on the grill or pan) in order for the sandwich to evenly brown.
• As tempting as it is, only press down on the sandwich if the bread is really thickly cut.
• When using cheese other than American, shredding the cheese works better than slicing. It can be a little trickier to get onto the grill without cheese falling out, but it melts in a much more even layer, ensuring cheese in every bite!

This meal was inspired by an email I received from a friend who is currently in El Salvador working for the Peace Corps. She wrote in her email about making papusas from scratch with two Salvadorian grandmas, which sounded lovely, not to mention tasty. But It was hot out in Brooklyn (not that isn’t in El Salvador!), and it was a Monday evening, and well, I wasn’t really motivated enough to engage in the effort of finding the ingredients (such as corn masa, which is not available in nearby markets) and making it all from scratch.

So, I wasn’t exactly going to make papusas, but would have to figure out how to make something that gave the general impression of them. If you have ever been to the Red Hook Ball Fields, you know that the traditional accompaniment to papausas is pickled cabbage, so a mayonnaise-less coleslaw was a must. And, while not exactly traditional, I was thinking an avocado salsa might be nice on top of the “papausas.” So there was my dinner plan: A non-specific-but-definitely-south-of-the-border Monday.

Since I wasn’t going to make papusa dough from scratch, I thought a good stand-in would be thick, high quality tortillas, requirements fulfilled by the Hot Bread Kitchen homemade corn tortillas that I located at Provisions market in Front Greene, Brooklyn. I felt like an über-gringo paying an absurd $5.50 for 8 tortillas, but Hot Bread Kitchen happens to be a cool company that pays immigrant women a fair wage to bake breads traditional to their culture, while at the same time training them to work in the New York food industry, so at least I can say I overpaid for a good cause.

Note: This recipe calls for jalapeños, which, after I assembled the dinner, I learned has been found to be the most likely cause of the Salmonella outbreak. Tonight I am going to watch the News Hour with Jim Lehrer before cooking dinner. Assuming I am not in the hospital with Salmonella poisoning tonight, of course. Fingers crossed!

Faux-Papusas with Mexican Coleslaw and Avocado Salsa

For the Coleslaw:
1 small head cabbage
1 large carrot
1/4 cup apple cider vinegar
1/4 cup flavorless oil
salt and pepper, to taste
1 T. sugar, plus more, to taste
1/2 to 1 jalapeño, to taste, minced

Clean, core, and slice the cabbage as thinly as possible (I find it easiest to cut the head it in quarters first). Clean the carrot and make long ribbons by lying the carrot flat on a cutting board and running a peeler along its length.

Whisk together the vinegar, oil, salt, and pepper. Add one tablesppon of sugar and taste. Add more sugar to taste, a few teaspoons at a time until it tastes good to you. Now add the half the jalapeño and taste again. Add more if necessary (I notice some jalapeños are practically as mild as bell peppers while others are super hot. The one I used last night, though it was big, was hot enough to make my fingers burn for hours after I handled it!!). Whatever you don’t use set aside for the avocado salsa.

Toss the shredded cabbage and carrot ribbons with the dressing, cover, and refrigerate for at least an hour. Taste again right before serving and add more seasoning as necessary.

For the avocado salsa:
1 avocado, diced
1 tomato, diced
juice of 1/2 lime
1/2 jalapeño, minced
1/4 c. cilantro, roughly chopped
salt and pepper, to taste

Gently toss all the ingredients, serve immediately, or cover and refrigerate until ready to use (but not more than an hour or so).

For the faux papusas:
4 thick, fresh, corn tortillas
about 4 T. refried beans
1/2 cup shredded or crumbled cheddar, jack, queso fresco, or cotija cheese

Simply spread a tortilla with a thin schmear (or whatever the Spanish for “schmear” is) of refried beans, top it with a modest amount of cheese (I used cheddar, but jack, queso blanco, or cotija, would also be great), then put another tortilla on top. Then put them on a very hot, dry griddle or non-stick frying pan (no oil!), and heat them until the insides are bubbly and the tortillas are beginning to brown.

Plate the “papusa” topped with some salsa, and coleslaw on the side.

Serves 2 generously.

We are going through a little heat spell here in Brooklyn, with days on end of 90+ degree heat in our immediate past and future. Who wants to eat a big meal, let alone cook one, in the sweltering heat? Not me.

Last night I put some plump summer strawberries to work in a really delicious salad. Because it was a main course I added a little body in the form of cheese. But this is without question a light meal. If you have a big appetite, this of would work well as a side dish, or especially a post-main-course salad.

This is is a sort of a loose “recipe.” Please adjust proportions to your taste!

Summer Strawberry and Baby Arugula Salad

For the salad, wash and dry some baby arugula (it bruises easily, so be gentle); slice some strawberries (I used an egg slicer to make quick and beautifully uniform work of it); and slice some red onion as paper thin as you can possibly get it.

Now make a very simple vinaigrette of about half very good quality extra virgin olive oil and half white balsamic (the higher proportion of vinegar than in your typical vinaigrette works with the bitter arugula and sweet strawberries here), plus some salt, pepper, and fresh or dried basil (basil and strawberries go swimmingly together). Whisk it well and toss it with the arugua, strawberries, and onion.

After plating, shave some ricotta salata and sprinkle some toasted walnuts over the top of each serving. Drizzle a little more olive oil and/or vinegar over top, if desired. You can’t get simpler than that!

Note: I picked ricotta salata cheese because I thought the creaminess of it would go well with strawberries, which it did. You might want to go an even creamier, milkier route and choose a cheese like manouri. I also considered using parmigiano reggiano, as it tastes great with with arugula. Any of these cheeses would be great options.

I have a long and troubled history with pancakes. Every time I make them, no matter what recipe I follow, from the Joy of Cooking to Grandma’s, mine come out too dry, too tough, or flatter than, well, a pancake. This information is all given by way as an excuse for using good ol’ Aunt Jemima mix. It feels sort of homemade as you add essential ingredients like an egg and milk, but let’s face it, it is still pretty much cheating. I have come to grips with this.

This isn’t a moral standard to apply when facing the rest of life’s challenges, but in the case of pancakes, I feel strongly that it is better to cheat a bit and have nice fluffy pillows of dough on your plate, than be faced with honestly earned hockey pucks. And if adding fresh blueberries to the mix makes you feel more virtuous, so much the better.

Sunday morning I did just that, putting to use the second of two pints of New Jersey blueberries that I bought last week for my red, white, and blue sangria. I had more than enough berries to brighten up the ‘cakes themselves, so I decided to make a blueberry syrup too.

It was simple to make, I just combined a couple handfuls of blueberries with a couple tablespoons of water in a small saucepan and heated on medium until all the berries burst. I smooshed it all with the back of a big wooden spoon (which is now irreparably stained–next time I’d use a slotted metal one), and stirred occasionally until it got nice and thick, then I added a tablespoon or so of real maple syrup and a dash of salt (Yes, salt. Just a pinch. Trust me). Simple and astoundingly tasty (In fact, the Hubs told me it was better than IHOP’s blueberry syrup, though not certain that can be treated as  a compliment).

Once that was done, I fried up the blueberry-rich pancakes in butter on my great cast iron skillet. I only use real butter to fry  pancakes. Nothing else creates that crispy brown rim! Other than frying in butter, I am not a believer in a lot of pancake rules. This in fact may be the reason that my from-scratch pancakes never turn out too well. But when Aunt Jemima and New Jersey blueberries help make them come out as light, fluffy, and delicious as this, who cares?

Note: Blueberry syrup served from an Elvis mug? I think it would do him proud.

As I mentioned a couple days ago, I decided to use the scapes (the ones I didn’t put into my summer squash salad) to make a pesto. Rather than follow a recipe, I winged it, using ingredients other than those traditional to pesto. In fact, there is no basil, no pine nuts, and not even parmesan in this recipe (I know, what business do I have calling it pesto?)! I did have on hand some pine nuts, but not quite enough for the dish, so I decided to use a combination of pecans and walnuts instead. These nuts have a less delicate flavor than pine nuts, to be sure, but I thought they would stand up well against the strongly flavored garlic scapes. Also, I decided to use the asiago cheese I already had in my fridge, rather than the more traditional parmesan or romano. I though the sharp flavor would nicely balance the garlicky punch of the scapes.

Pesto in general is pretty simple to make. Just crush the chunky and leafy ingredients together, incorporate some olive oil, then stir in the cheese. Simple! Normally, you pour the “raw” pesto over piping hot pasta, give it a toss (maybe adding some pasta water), and you are done. In this case, after incorporating the oil, but before incorporating the cheese, I tasted the pesto and it was just a bit too piquant, too strong, and too, well, I don’t know how else to describe it, but, a little too green. The beauty of winging it is that you aren’t bound to follow tradition. So, I decided to try to mellow out the flavors by putting the pesto on the stove for a few minutes before incorporating the pasta and cheese (something that would ruin a basil pesto).

The pesto pasta turned out really well: incredibly creamy, garlicky, nutty, and uncommonly delicious. So, here’s my non-traditional-in-every-way pesto. I hope you enjoy it! (But enjoy it soon–garlic scapes have a brief summer season!)

Garlic Scape Pesto

2/3 cup pecans and/or walnuts
1 cup roughly chopped garlic scapes
at least 1/4 cup olive oil
salt and pepper, to taste
1/2 pound pasta
1 cup asiago cheese

Start a big pot of salted water boiling for the pasta.

Put the nuts in large frying pan set on a medium flame. Stir the nuts often until the just begin to release a scent, a few minutes, then turn the flame off.

Put the chopped scapes and the nuts in a food processor (it i ok if the nuts are still hot) and pulse until the texture is uniform and the size of big breadcrumbs, stopping to scrape down the sides of the processor bowl as necessary.

Now, turn the processor on and pour in the olive oil in a slow, steady stream. Keep pouring, exceeding the 1/4 cup, if necessary, until the sauce loosens up and spins freely around the processor, but is not yet liquidy. Season with salt and pepper.

Start cooking the pasta now, setting the timer to a minute or two less than the pasta package directs.

Scrape the contents into the same frying pan you used to toast the nuts. Turn the heat on medium-low. Stir frequently. When the pasta is a few minutes to done, add it and a bit of the pasta water to the pesto and continue stirring.

Once the pasta is perfectly al dente and coated with the sauce, turn off the heat and stir in the cheese. (Lydia Bastianich taught me never to add cheese while the flame is on–it will get stringy and separate into a gloppy, oily mess). Now, enjoy!

Serves 4.

A note: the pasta I used here was organic elk pasta from IKEA of all places. The pesto clung to the shape really well, but I can’t recommend the pasta for its flavor. Any shape pasta would work well for this, but it seems the more complicated the shape, the better the sauce-cling!