morsels & sauces

Okay, people.  This salad hardly needs a recipe. The title of the salad pretty much says it all. But I am still handing this one over to you because of what  Sarit Packer and Itamar Srulovich (chefs and cookbook writers extraordinaire) do to the goat cheese. They mix it with heavy cream.   Yes,  more  dairy. And in doing so, they get to create these little clouds of cheesiness goodness that when added to the sweet figs, the acidic lemon, the crisp lettuce, the crunchy pistachios, and the thick honey--well, this salad becomes much, much more than the sum of its parts.  My mouth is watering now as I type this. Perfect for a crisp autumn day, this salad makes a satisfying lunch or a sweet starter to a great meal. These figs are part of the plethora of fruit that one of the parents at my school has been bringing to the faculty lounge. From pears to plums, from apples to figs, we are luxuriating in the plenty of the orchards...

Here we are, about to hurl ourselves into fall tomorrow, and I am giving you a recipe for a spring dish. What?! Can I tell you a secret?  I made this recipe about two months ago, and I am just getting around to posting it. This is what happens when you spend August traveling and getting ready for the start of school. And then you spend the opening of September launching that school year. No matter how prepared you think you are, you're not prepared.  September. Post Labor Day. Full on ready for pumpkin lattes and wool sweaters and tart apples. And it appears I was cooking with rhubarb. I was not. (But I was. Back in July (which for many places might feel a bit late, but in California, rhubarb does seem to have a long season)). I liked these little meat balls. There's not an ounce of bread in them, so if you're all up in the Paleo diet, these will do you just fine. If you're like me, however, and all up into the feeling...

Last night, the husband, his mom, one of his dads, and I sat in the backyard talking of television shows and books and cell phone plans (hey, not all of it was inspiring), sipping a ros é, and munching on an over-abundant crudit é  platter. (I have issues--most of which involve my great fear that there will not be enough food for our guests. Not once have we ever run out of food, so I know that this is an unfounded fear.) This morning, the husband shuttled his mother to the airport so she could fly back to New York, pack her belongings, and move next week to Florida.  However, last night was about settling in and diving deeper into our conversations (and beyond the benefits of Sprint vs. AT&T vs. T-Mobile). As darkness fell and it got much cooler outside, we moved indoors to the couch and the floor, where I listened as the husband and his family reminisced over the batty woman who owned the food co-op distribution space, a cross-state move with a truck that could g...

I am a fan of Sara Forte and Hugh Forte and their beautifully presented blog , The Sprouted Kitch en . Even more so, I am a fan of my friend who gifted me with the Forte's first cook book, simpl y entit led The Sprouted Kitchen . Thus, I was looking forward to this sophomore cookbook from Sara Forte. It meant good food, beautiful pictures, and a nostalgic return to her first. Th i s new cookbook combines  the pragmatism of the first book (healthy, whole  foods) with the charm of a single dish.  While the book reads almost like a vegetarian cookbook, Forte tucks in recipes for turkey meatballs, seared tuna, jerk-seasoned white fish, roasted salmon, and seared scallops. Forte is no simpleton when it comes to healthy food, for such a qualifying moniker doesn't always mean food without poultry or seafood. Further, Forte admits that one must not get too literal with the bowl and spoon , even encouraging you to branch out  to the fork and plate...