Tuesday, October 26, 2010

Wrong Season, but whatever!


Hey! Look what I found when rooting through the recesses of my camera's memory card. I have no idea about when I actually made this -- I can assure you, it was many weeks ago -- but I do recall that it was excellent! The crust was sweet and buttery (much as its name would suggest), the filling had just the right consistency - delicately balanced between runny and gelatinous - and really, how could you refuse a mountainous pile of fruit like that?

I like to follow the various recipes to make it all from scratch. It's more rewarding, and you have more control over the taste and texture. But, if you're pressed for time, or simply intimidated by any single part (hey, crusts scare me, too!), I sure you could substitute store-bought stuff.

Ladies and Gentlemen, from the Silver Palate, I give you:
Pinwheel Fruit Tart

This is actually a combination of 3 smaller recipes, which you can do simultaneously, or apart. Let's start with the filling:

Pastry Cream
  • 2 cups milk
  • 1/2 cup granulated sugar
  • 4 Tbs unbleached all-purpose flour
  • 2 egg yolks
  • 1 Tbs sweet butter
  • 2 tsp vanilla extract
1. Scald the milk in a heavy pan (bring it almost to a boil over high heat, stirring to keep the sugars from burning onto the pan)

2. While milk is heating, whisk sugar and flour together in a stainless-steel mixing bowl.

3. When milk is scalded, remove skin and slowly pour milk into flour and sugar, whisking constantly. Place bowl over a saucepan of simmering water and cook, stirring, until mixture lightly coasts the back of a spoon, about 10min.

4. Add egg yolks and cook, stirring constantly, until mixture heavily coats the back of a spoon, about 10min more. Remove from heat.

5. Add butter and vanilla and mix well. Chill; before chilling cover top with a lighty coating of butter, or cover surface directly with plastic wrap, to prevent formation of a skin.

Then go on to the crust:

Sweet Buttery Tart Crust
  • 1,2/3 cups unbleached all-purpose flour
  • 1/4 cup ver fine granulated sugar
  • 1/2 tsp salt
  • 10 Tbs (1,1/4 sticks) sweet butter, chilled
  • 2 egg yolks
  • 1 tsp vanilla extract
  • 2 tsp cold water
1. Sift flour, sugar and salt into a mixing bowl. Cut chilled butter into pieces into the bowl. Using your fingertips, rapidly rub the butter and dry ingredients together until the mixture resembles coarse meal. Be careful to use only your fingertips as your palms will warm the dough.

2. Stir egg yolks, vanilla and water together and add to the flour-butter mixture and blend in, using a fork. Shape dough into a ball. This should not take more than 30-45 seconds.

3. Place the ball of dough on a pastry board. With the heel of your hand, smear about 1/4 cup of dough away from you into a 6- to 8-inch smear; repeat until all dough has been dealt with. Scrape dough together; re-form into a ball, wrap in wax paper, and chill for 2 to 3 hours.

4. Roll out dough between 2 sheets of wax paper, or use a floured pastry cloth and floured stockinette on your rolling pin, into a round large enough to line your pan. Work quickly, as the dough can become sticky.

5. Line either an 8- or 9-inch false-bottom tart pan with the dough, fitting it loosely into the pan and pressing to fit sides. Trim edges 3/4 inch outside top of pan, and fold this edge over to inside and press into place with fingers. Chill.

6. Preheat over to 425F.

7. Line dough in the tart pan with a piece of aluminum foil or wax paper and weight with rice or beans. Bake for 8 minutes. Remove foil and weights. Prick the bottom of the dough with a fork in several places. For a fully baked shell, return to the oven for 8 to 10 minutes longer, or until edges are a light brown.

Put them together:

Pinwheel Fruit Tart
  • 4 kiwis, 1 pint raspberries, 1 pint strawberries // I look at these as suggestions. Add whatever fruit you want!
1. Peel the kiwis and slice thin. Rinse, stem, and halve the strawberries.

2. Spread the pastry cream in cooled tart shell.

3. Arrange the fruit on the cream. Silver Palate says: Make a pinwheel design over cream, arranging each fruit in a whorl pattern, first using raspberries, then strawberries (cut sides down), then layered slices of kiwis. Repeat with remaining fruit.

4. Brush the fruit with:

Red Currant Glaze
  • 3 Tbs red currant jelly
  • 1 Tbs Kirsch
Whisk jelly and Kirsch together over medium heat until smooth. Use glaze while warm.

Try to serve the tart within 2 to 3 hours.

Monday, October 25, 2010

Death by Chocolate

This is something I wrote and put aside many weeks ago. I think I lost the pictures somewhere along the way. More updates to come...

A lot has happened since I last posted here. That applies to all three of us, really, but mostly to me. As of a few months ago, I am officially an alumnus of the University of Chicago (yaaaaaay!). Granted, with that comes all the "fun" of post-graduation: job-hunting, grad school-applying, student loan-paying, etc. (booooo!). Another piece of that unfortunate collection is saying good-bye to everyone who I've been suffering alongside through the past few years. As all graduates know, it's hard to do. You become attached to people fighting through the cerebral chaos of college. But you rarely realise that when you go on to the real world, you probably won't be able to share that camaderie as before.

But anyway, I'm not here to wax poetic and maudlin. I'm manly that way.

One such fellow whose company I no longer enjoy is my former roommate. God knows why, but the man has decided to leave Chicago to go to graduate school in Arizona. Frozen tundra to arid desert. What? I'm sure he'll have plenty of fun with his new pet scorpions (they hide in the shoes!) -- they will probably be more cooperative listeners to his advanced math lectures. More so than his former smartass roommates, at least.

The greatest loss here, of course, is that I have one fewer guinea pig on whom to test my baked concoctions. Evidently, being exposed to these hazardous materials, the boy has developed a mild addiction to them. Our most recent report from the Southwest informs us that he is "wasting away" without them. So, without further ado, I hereby provide the recipe to one of my most-favouritest cakes ever: the Silver Palate's Decadent Chocolate Cake. And when they say "decadent," they aren't kidding around. This is Death by Chocolate. I don't know if baking is quite as enjoyable down there, but the products of this recipe are always worth it.

So, Fluffles, this is for you.

Decadent Chocolate Cake
  • 1 cup boiling water
  • 3 ounces unsweetened chocolate
  • 8 Tbs (1 stick) sweet butter
  • 1 tsp vanilla extract
  • 2 cups granulated sugar
  • 2 eggs, separated
  • 1 tsp baking soda
  • 1/2 cup dairy sour cream
  • 2 cups less 2 Tbs unbleached, all-purpose flour, sifted
  • 1 tsp baking powder
  • Chocolate Frosting (below)

1. Preheat your oven to 350F. Grease and flour a 10-inch tube pan. Knock out excess.

2. Pour boiling water over chocolate and butter; let stand until melted. (you don't really have to do that. Really. Just ensure that the butter is in liquid form.) Stir in vanilla and sugar, then whisk in egg yolks, one at a time, blending well after each addition.

3. Mix baking soda and sour cream and whisk into chocolate mixture.

4. Sift flour and baking powder together and add to batter mixing thoroughly.

5. Beat egg whites until stiff but not dry. Stir a quarter of the egg whites thoroughly into the batter. Scoop remaining egg whites on top of the batter and gently fold together.

6. Pour batter into the prepared pan. Set on the middle rack of the over and bake for 40-50min, or until the edges have pulled away from the sides of the pan and a cake tester inserted into the center comes out clean. Cool in pan for 10min; unmold and cool completely before frosting.

Chocolate Frosting
  • 2 Tbs sweet butter
  • 3/4 cup semisweet chocolate chips
  • 6 Tbs heavy cream
  • 1 1/4 cups sifted confectioners' sugar, or as needed
  • 1 tsp vanilla extract

Place all the ingredients in a heavy saucepan over low heat and whisk until smooth. Cool slightly; add more sugar if necessary to achieve a spreding consistency. Spread on cake while frosting is still warm.

If you are so fortunate as to have a pint of berries on hand (raspberries are best, I think), I recommend tossing half in the batter, mixing some in with the frosting, and placing any remaining pieces on top as decoration.

Wednesday, March 3, 2010

Pecan Squares: the Vanishing Food of Choice

Some things just aren't made to last.

This is the thought that passes through my head as I watch the product of my baking labors disappear. It's Wednesday night; I'm sitting in my living room with three other people, sprawled about on the couch and the floor. It's getting late, and the warm air is making us drowsy, but we're diligently working or (in my case) pretending to work. Laptops are out, mugs of tea are within reach, and some buttered toast is on the way. Also out are my recently-baked pecan squares. These are the subjects of my observation.

I can't help but sigh. This is the second batch I've made. The first one didn't last as long as I would have liked, so I was hoping that this would survive the first day. Looks like that's just not in the cards.

Which is peculiar, really. You would think that these were too rich to be eaten in such a short amount of time. The base is a simple combination of flour, sugar, and butter, but the topping -- the glue that keeps the pecan chunks on -- is a decadent combination of melted butter, heavy cream, honey, and brown sugar. It makes for a succulent treat to accompany ice cream or somesuch, but not a snack that you would want to eat continuously. And yet as I sit here, I can see their number gradually diminishing.

This leads me to my next observation: man, these kids are going to get a sugar-crash soon!

Crust:
2/3 cup confectioners' sugar
2 cups flour
2 sticks (1/2 pound) sweet butter, softened

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Grease a 9*12 inch baking pan.
Sift the sugar and flour together. Cut in the butter, using two knives or a pastry blender (or your fingers), until fine crumbs form. Pat crust into the prepared baking pan. Bake for 20min and remove from the oven.

Topping:
2/3 (approx. 11 Tbs) melted sweet butter
1/2 cup honey
3 Tbs heavy cream
1/2 cup brown sugar
3, 1/2 cups shelled pecans, coarsely chopped

Mix the first 4 ingredients together, then stir in the pecans, coating them thoroughly. Spread the syrupy heaven-sauce over the crust. Return the whole thing to the oven and bake for 25min more. Let it cool completely before cutting into squares.

Wednesday, February 24, 2010

Brownies. They make life better.

There's something about Chicago weather. It has meteorological attitude problems. It misbehaves.

For those of you who have never been here, this is not simply because it gets really cold and really windy. No, it's because it conspires to trick you like no other place I have ever been. Only in Chicago could you be caught unawares in a heavy snow in no more than a sweatshirt, or be more layered than an Inuit for what turns out to be a sweltering day. Only in Chicago could you expect to experience a 30 degree temperature jump from one day to the next. Only here, on the banks of Lake Michigan, would you find yourself in a place that has been colder than Alaska, Moscow, or even the North Pole. Or hotter than... well, we haven't conducted that experiment yet. We only researched other temperatures around the world this winter. (So no, I'm wasn't kidding.)

Take this week as an example. After several days of clear skies and brilliant sunshine, I couldn't help but feel that, at long last, we were inexorably crawling towards spring. The Chicago Weather demons must have sensed the joy in my thoughts, and decided it was a fit time to anoint us with that delightful precipitation that is somewhere between rain, freezing rain, hail, snow, and sleet. I think the NOAA has taken to calling it a Wintry Mix. Five days of it.

In Chicago, one does not walk. One trudges.

[Insert rant about how Neen & Do are living the Bay Area, the Land of Neverending Spring. Grr.]

How in the world, you might ask, does any of this relate to food? Very simple: the "comfort" variety. And what can possibly be more comfortable than chocolate? Long and short of it: brownies. Brownies make life better.

HISTORICAL ASIDE: My obsession is geographically appropriate, because brownies were invented in Chicago. Seriously. In the Palmer House Hilton, in the Loop (downtown). Mrs. Palmer assigned her chef to create a new dessert for the ladies at the 1893 World Fair -- something with chocolate, preferably that could be handheld, but similar to a cake. Et voila: brownie.

Now, like Neen, I usually rely on the New York Times' old Supernatural Brownie recipe. As a matter of fact, I think it was this recipe that convinced my roommates that I was a chocolate fiend. There is unanimous agreement in my apartment that when I am in the kitchen, I provoking the slow and delicious deaths of all around me. Mwahaha!

Recently, however, I've uncovered a new way of making them. It lightens up ever so slightly on the butter and chocolate, allowing you to have more control over whether you end up with more cakey or more fudgy brownies depending on your cooking time. Furthermore, with the different proportions, they lose nothing of their luxuriousness while nevertheless not making you feel like you'll die if you have more than one or two. Or three. Or-- yeah, actually, I recommend you make multiple batches. In my experience, they disappear in about as many days.

These are "Classic Brownies," I believe originally clipped from the Joy of Cooking.

-1,1/4 cups cake flour (regular flour is fine)
-1/2 tsp salt
-3/4 tsp baking powder
-6 oz unsweetened chocolate (chopped fine)
-12 Tbs (1.5 sticks) unsalted butter, cut into 6 pieces
-2,1/4 cups sugar
-4 large eggs
-1 Tbs vanilla

Adjust your oven rack to the middle position and preheat the oven to 325 degrees. Line a 13*9 baking pan with aluminum foil or parchment paper.

Combine flour, salt, and baking powder by whisking them together in a medium-sized bowl.

Melt together the chocolate and butter, stirring until it's smooth. Once smooth, whisk in the sugar. Add the eggs one at a time until they are thoroughly combined. Whisk in the vanilla.

Add the dry ingredients in three additions, folding in with a rubber spatula until the batter is completely smooth. Transfer to the prepared pan and bake 30-35min, or until a toothpick inserted into the middle comes out with a few moist crumbs attached. I recommend sprinkling the top with some powdered sugar, just for decoration.

Supposedly, you should to let it cool on a wire rack for 2 hours before cutting and serving. Yeah, right. As if I could wait that long.

Suddenly, facing the outdoors isn't so bad anymore.

Sunday, February 7, 2010

Homemade Parmesan Polenta with Shrimp, Pancetta, and Chard topping

So to celebrate Do passing his PhD exams (yes! He passed!), we spent this past weekend in Santa Cruz. Four blocks from the beach, in a 1929 Victorian house that had 5 bedrooms, 30 stained glass windows, and a giant box of Playboys hidden in the attic. I mean, there was stained glass in the stairway, stained glass in the bathrooms, stained glass on the kitchen ceiling. Not kidding. And if all that weren't deliciously random enough, we were there with a college friend we hadn't seen since 2005, my cousin, his wife, his wife's sister + beau, and five other people whom Do & I had never even heard of before we all arrived Friday night. We drove up, made introductions, and promptly began exploring all the nooks and crannies of the crazy house and giggling over the epic quantity of board games we had all brought down. It was that kind of weekend.

By the way, if you're ever in Santa Cruz, the best coffeeshop in the entire Western Hemisphere is called The Abbey. It's this renovated space behind a brick church with huge, comfy, retro couches, funky art, and some of the best coffee drinks I've had anywhere. Do & I happily spent Saturday afternoon there reading and discussing the late 20th century bureaucratization of science research. Very us.

So we read books on the beach. We ate seafood at every possible opportunity. We visited the Monterey Bay Aquarium (just as awesome as everybody claims -- Do remembered almost nothing from when he visited about 15 years ago, until we got to the ray touch pool. You get to pet Rays! Apparently that made a big impression on him back in the day. They feel like velvet, BTW.). It was a very ocean-themed weekend.

We didn't do much cooking during the weekend, partly because we were so busy running around having a good time and partly because cooking for 12 people whom you don't really know is complicated. However, at our last supper club get-together, we had a massive success with a new seafood-themed recipe: an Italian take on southern Shrimp & Grits. Massive Success.

I don't really cook with polenta or shrimp. The former is too often just a swanky cardboard-tasting filler, and the latter is a bitch to clean and/or tastes like rubber when pre-frozen. But this recipe... oh, man. Like most top-quality homemade Italian food, this recipe takes my preconceived notions of "shrimp" and "polenta" and throws them back at me with "You keep using that word. I do not think if means what you think it means."

(This weekend also involved ample quotations from Princess Bride. What better way to bond instantaneously with perfect strangers on Valentine's Day than by talking about "Twue Wuv"?)

Cook's Illustrated has an amazingly simple and delicious recipe for homemade Parmesan Polenta: creamy like grits, but much lighter (think fluffy clouds of goodness), and chock-a-bloc full of a Parmesan/olive oil/black pepper flavor. Not delicate, this one. Which goes well with the rough and ready take on the shrimp: lots of garlic, tomatoes, meaty pancetta flavor, hearty greens, and then these really delicately cooked shrimp. Think Italian. Think Addictive. Vampire deterrent served on pillows of Parmesan.

For those of you who find the thought of homemade polenta intimidating: it is so worth it. And it only takes 5 minutes total of hand time (25min cook time). Please, please, please try it.

For the vegetarians out there, I'm tagging this as "vegetarian" because the meat products are in no way critical to the dish: top the polenta with whatever you want and it'll still be awesome.

And by the way, a great use for the leftover Parmesan Polenta is to have it for breakfast, topped with fried eggs. Almost exactly three years ago, the Nytimes published a recipe for that very dish. Yes, we've had the clipping squirreled away that long and only ever fantasized about it. And I can finally assure the world that the dish is as good as it sounds.










Homemade Parmesan Polenta, from Cook's Illustrated (serves 6-8)
1.5 tsp salt
Pinch baking soda
1.5 coarse-ground cornmeal (also called "corn grits")
2 Tbs butter
4oz good quality Parmesan cheese, grated (~2 cups)

Bring 7.5 cups water to boil in heavy-bottomed pot over medium-high heat. Stir in salt and baking soda. Slowly pour cornmeal into water in steady stream, while stirring back and forth with wooden spoon or rubber spatula. Bring mxture to boil, stirring constantly, about 1 min. Reduce heat to lowest possible setting and cover.

After 5 min, whisk polenta to smooth out any lumps that may have formed, about 15seconds. (Make sure to scrape down sides and bottom of pan). Cover and continue to cook, without stirring, until grains of polenta are tender but slightly al dente, about 25min longer. (Polenta should be loose and barely hold its shape but will continue to continue to thicken as it cools.)

Meanwhile, cook a polenta topping (see recipe below)

Once 25min are up, turn off heat, stir in butter and Parmesan, and season to taste with black pepper. Let stand, covered, 5min. Serve.

Shrimp, Pancetta, and Greens over Polenta, inspired by Gourmet Nov 2009 issue (serves 4)
Homemade Parmesan Polenta (recipe below)
1/3lb pancetta, chopped
4 garlic cloves, minced
1/4 - 1/2 tsp hot red pepper flakes
1 bunch winter greens, sliced into thick strips (chard, kale, whatever floats your boat)
2 Tbs extra-virgin olive oil
1 14oz can diced tomatoes in juice
1-1.5lb cleaned large shrimp
1 Tbs chopped flat leaf parsley

While polenta is cooking, heat 2Tbs oil in a heavy 12-inch heavy skillet over medium heat. Cook pancetta, garlic, greens, and red pepper until garlic is golden (~2-3min). Add tomatoes in their juice and simmer until liquid is reduced to ~1/4cup (~6-8min). Add shrimp and cook, stirring occasionally, until shrimp are just cooked through (~3min). Season with salt.

Spoon Polenta into bowls and top with shrimp mixture. Season with pepper and sprinkle with parsley.

Saturday, February 6, 2010

Surviving PhD Exams with Indonesian Chicken Soup

Do's PhD Qualifying Exams are this Wednesday. He has been studying every day, evenings and weekends, for 11 months. For those of you outside academia, this event carries all of the anxiety of an Indiana Jones "Are you worthy to pass through, if not you'll die a painful death" ancient booby trap, but without the 3rd Reich and the Steven Spielberg dramatic soundtrack playing in the background. Like in the ancient Roman Coliseum, it'll come down to a thumbs up or a thumbs down from the Committee: thumbs up and Do magically transforms into a PhD candidate, thumbs down and we have to go through this 11 month hell again. If you get thumbs down twice, you get fed to the Lions: you're kicked out of the PhD program and pretty much have to give up on a career in the sciences.

Yeah, and he goes to the Coliseum this Wednesday. In 3 days. After 11 months of preparation.

All things considered, he's handling it pretty well.

So we've been eating a lot of "whatever will make Do happy." Turns out these days that's a lot of chicken soup. Friday night was our Matzo ball soup, and the week before was this crazy Indonesian Chicken Noodle Soup.

The soup was beautiful. The flavors and textures were complex. The ****ing recipe had so many moving parts that you should not make it without a sous chef (unless it's a dire emergency, like the week before Quals). I knew what I was getting into: this is a recipe out of the Williams & Sonoma Asian cookbook, a source known to gratuitously throw in esoteric ingredients and insert as many unnecessarily cumbersome steps as possible. Don't believe me? This recipe calls for you to grind a bunch of ingredients into a paste, which you then cook until fragrant (pretty standard for a south Asian recipe). I used a cuisineart. This cookbook wants you to do it by hand using a mortar and pestle! I mean, even freakin' Madhur Jaffrey (the Julia Child of Indian cooking in the 1970s) wanted you to use a blender!! Gah!

Anyways. So the soup is complicated and hand-intensive. But Do was so happy. The noodles expanded so that they sucked up almost all the liquid (the proportions are more Udon-style than a western chicken noodle soup). The dish was bright yellow and green, very cheerful for a winter day. It's delicious hot or cold (so good for leftover lunches). The flavors are authentically complex and nuanced. The fried shallots and hard boiled eggs and mung beans and all the other goodies add a ton of varying texture in every bite. He'd like it a little hotter, but didn't think it really necessary. Seriously, he took this dish into work every day for lunch and was so happy.

It's easy to buy chocolates and roses. In this household, we tend to display love by undertaking a very personal, labor-intense project, preferably resulting in something edible. One of our very first blog posts was about one such endeavor. In the spirit of V-day, if you want to really pamper somebody special (including yourself, because you're special too right?), I offer you this recipe. It takes so much effort, it must mean love.







Indonesian Spicy Chicken Noodle Soup, from Williams-Sonoma Asian cookbook (serves 6-8)
8 cups Chicken stock
1/2 lb bone-in chicken breast, skin removed
1/2lb bone-in chicken thighs, skin removed
1/2lb vermicelli
3 jalapenos, chopped (or more)
7 shallots
2 fresh ginger slices, peeled
3 cloves garlic
5 blanched almonds
2 Tbs lemongrass, chopped.
2 tsp tumeric
1/4 tsp ground coriander
2 Tbs fish sauce
2 Tbs lemon juice (Neen: don't add more, or lemon flavor will be more dominant than you want it)
3 eggs
1 cup bean sprouts (~ 1oz)
1 bunch cilantro, chopped
3 green onions, sliced on the diagonal.

In a heavy bottomed pot or large saucepan, bring the chicken stock to boil. Add 1 Tbs salt and the chicken, and return to a boil. Reduce heat to meduim and cook, uncovered, until the chicken is opaque throughout (~30min).

Meanwhile, soak vermicelli in water to cover for 15min. Drain and set aside.

Meanwhile, hard boil your eggs. (Suggestion: put eggs in saucepan and add cold water to cover by 2 inches. Bring just to a boil over medium heat, remove from heat, cover, and let eggs stand in water 20min. Rinse under cold water until cool, peel).

Meanwhile, roughly chop 4 shallots. In a cuisineart, combine 2 jalapenos, chopped shallots, ginger, garlic, almonds, lemongrass, tumeric, coriander, and 1-2 Tbs of water. Grind together until a paste forms. Set aside (Neen: if you have leftover lemongrass, which I did, just toss it in the simmering chicken broth).

Meanwhile, slice remaining 3 shallots and fry in 3 tsp canola or peanut oil until crisp and golden brown (7-10min). Drain on paper towels.

Once the chicken is cooked, use tongs to transfer chicken to a plate to cool. Pour broth into a heat resistant bowl. In the pot or large saucepan over medium, heat 2 Tbs oil. Add chile paste and saute until fragrant (~2min). Pour reserved broth back into the pot and bring to a boil. Reduce heat to low and simmer, uncovered, for 15min. Stir in fish sauce and lemon juice and season to taste with salt and pepper, and simmer for another 5min.

Meanwhile, shred the chicken into thin pieces, discarding bones. (Neen: again, throw them back into the simmering broth to add flavor).

Meanwhile, quarter the boiled eggs.

When broth is ready, discard all the solids (all that lemongrass and bones you added in). Add the drained noodles to broth and cook until just tender (~2min). Add chicken, bean sprouts, cilantro, green onions to pot. Ladle soup intro individual bowls and garnish with eggs, fried shallots, and the remaining jalapeno. Serve.

Wednesday, January 20, 2010

Kale, Potato, and Chorizo Soup for long, wet days

The research center that I work for is putting together a conference on the Green Economy tomorrow. It has ballooned into a relatively big deal: the Obama folks have latched onto it as a symbol and are sending out a Deputy Assistant Secretary from the US Department of Commerce. Suddenly there's going to be press, TV. The facility can seat only ~180 people, and we already have 60 folks on the waitlist. Ack! Exciting, but I started having nightmare visions of having to play bouncer at the registration desk. (For readers who know me only via internet, I don't look very intimidating. Loud, but small.).

Then it started raining. Hard. As in big hunks o' hail yesterday. Umbrellas violently turning inside out every couple minutes because the winds keep changing direction. Dead umbrellas littering the pubic trash cans. The sewers are getting backed up. People get stuck indoors, buses are overcrowded and running extremely late, meetings canceled. I got an inordinate amount of work done yesterday, simply because I got trapped at my research center and couldn't leave.

We have hopes, high hopes, that our waitlist will magically vanish. Because who wants to wade their way to downtown Berkeley, either squished on a late bus or having paid a left kidney for parking, just to wait around in a lobby for an hour before being informed by an innocuous graduate student that, sorry, thanks for coming, but we're over subscribed and you should turn around and go home? And don't forget your inside-out umbrella, sir.

So, for all of my waitlistees and anyone else out there whose plans have been thwarted by the rain, I offer a bowl of warm soup.

Apparently this Portuguese Kale, Potato, and Chorizo soup was very popular last year: both Bon Appetit and Food & Wine published recipes within a month of each other. We crossed the two recipes, used our secret makes-everything-tastier ingredient (Elgin sausage), supplemented canned chicken stock with some leftover homemade stock, and the results were really quite impressive. The soup's broth made the dish: hearty, with a depth of flavor that usually comes only from multiple hours of slow simmering. The potatoes add creaminess, the chorizo adds heartiness, the greens add texture but no bitterness. Think comfort. And it's good for you.

Do would prefer the potatoes a little more solid, so that they don't quite melt in your mouth. DNA would prefer a little more sausage, so that you get some in almost every bite. I love it just the way it is.

Portuguese Kale, Potato, and Chorizo soup
(serves 6)
2 Tbs Olive Oil
1/2 lb chorizo or other very flavorful sausage
1 medium onion, chopped
2 minced garlic cloves
2 tsp smoked paprika
1 1/2 lb russet potatoes, cut into 1/2" pieces
1 1/2 lb Kale, stemmed, leaves thinly sliced (Neen: For color, use a combination of Kale and Red Chard)
8 cups chicken broth

Heat oil in a 5 quart heavy pot over medium high, and brown your sausage (2-3min). Transfer to a plate using a slotted spoon. In the remaining fat, cook onion and garlic over medium heat until soft and slightly browned. Add paprika and Kale, cook 1 min till bright green. Add pototoes and chicken broth, and bring to a boil. Simmer covered until the potatoes are tender but not disintegrating (~15-20min). Add sausage, add salt and pepper to taste, and serve.