Non-Yuppy Hummus

Hummus is one of those foods I feel really silly buying, mostly since I typically finish a moderately sized container in less than a day. At the farmers market the going rate is 3 small tubs for $15, more if bought individually. This is truly yuppy hummus.

The constituent ingredients are relatively easy to find, and generally cheap. Production is an affair no longer than ten minutes. Rumor has it that one can simply use sesame seeds instead of store-bought tahini sauce. I will save this for another post, however.

Red Pepper Hummus

For the Hummus

• 1 Can Chick Peas, Drained and Washed
• 2 Heaping Spoons Tahini Sauce
• Half a Lemon's Juice
• Three Glugs Olive Oil
• One Glug Water
• One Red Pepper, Seeded and Chopped Roughly
• One Clove Garlic, Smashed
• Salt and Pepper

1. Place all items in a food processors and blend until a creamy texture is realized. Adjust seasoning and add more oil or water to adjust texture.
2. Chill in refrigerator until a desired temperature has been reached. I much prefer cold hummus. Serve with pita slices.

NB: Add anything that sounds like it would be good in hummus.

Some may find the amount of lemon juice I've suggested distracting, so scaling back in this regard may be necessary. Try roasted red peppers for a different flavor altogether.

Anatomically Altered Chicken

In another climate I would be far more inclined to roast things at this time of year, but alas the apartment is nigh unbearable with the oven at full blast. Given the ease of preparation, roasting a chicken is probably faster than dealing with any given hunk by itself. Very large birds are fairly inconvenient to roast given longer times — it seems one must resign one's vegetables to overdoneness if the chicken is to be fully sanitized.

Butterflying is the best way to ensure even cooking and a reasonable roasting time. As an added benefit, carving up the roasted product becomes an extremely simple task. Putting flavoring and butter under the skin is a good way to add some kick without having to marinate beforehand.

The typical bed of vegetables consists of celery, carrots, and onions. Celery bores me to death so I've opted to go for fennel instead, given that it tastes like something other than cardboard. Adding soy gives a little bit of a different flavor, the amount of salt used should be adjusted given its omission.

Mustard Roasted Chicken

For the Chicken

• 1 4-lb. Chicken
• 2-3 Tbs Unsalted Butter, Room Temperature
• Heaping Tbs. Grainy Mustard
• 1 Glug Soy Sauce (optional)
• 1/2 Tsp. Salt
• Few Grinds Pepper

For the Pan

• 1 Large Bulb Fennel, Leaf-Matter Removed
• 1 Large Red Onion
• 2 Medium Carrots
• Few Springs Fresh Time, or a couple shakes dried

1. Preheat oven to 425F
2. Remove tops of fennel and most of the root from onions, and cut into wedges. Slice carrots to 1/3" pieces. Combine in pile at the bottom of the roasting pan and add the springs of thyme.
3. Combine butter, mustard, and soy sauce with salt and pepper.
4. Butterfly the chicken, removing the keel bone. Pat dry with paper towels and season either side lightly with salt and pepper. Open up skin with fingers and spoon the mustard mixture around the breasts, thighs, and legs. Place the bird breast up on the pile.
5. Roast for 45 minutes, maybe, or until juices run clear and internal temperature reaches 165F. A thermometer is a real boon here, though premature butchering is sometimes necessary for a sound state of mind.

NB: Soy substantially alters the texture of the butter mixture, making it flow more freely once the skin is punctured. Cutting to check for done-ness will probably result in a draining of flavor.

Let rest for a few minutes under foil, then carve into quarters — an easy task with no keel bone! Thanks to the guy at the market with a cooler full of dead chickens...

The Fridge-Cleaning Souffle

It's habitually been the job of a stir-fry or pasta sauce to make something out of the vegetables I tend to ignore in the back of the refrigerator. Recently I've felt compelled to seek more interesting avenues for the consumption of random produce. Salads are out — squash salad will never sound appetizing to me. For one reason or another I find omelets too strange for dinner, even though they share most of their qualities with what I've ultimately arrived at as a solution.

I've found souffles surprisingly forgiving despite the overwhelming, and I'm guessing uncorroborated, evidence that claims otherwise. They can be constructed out of almost anything that lies in the fridge, even a lone piece of ham that narrowly avoided yesterday's sandwich. I happened to go for spinach and asparagus for this attempt, which I cooked the most reasonable way possible. The only requirement is that the pieces don't end up being too large.

On the topic of meat: I have apparently become a weekday vegetarian simply because buying meat is a huge hassle for me. Probably this is better for me and the average ruminant, though I have no qualms suspending this behavior when the opportunity presents itself. I think being mostly vegetarian is reasonable, and I'm annoyed by the oft-touted idea that it's a binary issue.

The following is enough for four people if accompanied by other dishes — note that it's one egg per person, at least for my abnormally large eggs.

Asparagus and Spinach Souffle

For the Bechamel

• 2 1/2 Tbs. Butter
• 3 Tbs All Purpose Flour
• 1 Cup Hot Milk
• 1/2 Tsp. Salt
• 1/2 Tsp. Paprika
• Few Grinds Pepper
• 4 Eggs, separated
• 1/4 Cup Grated Cheese (Swiss/Gouda/Parmesan)

For the Random Filling

• 1 Bunch Spinach, Reduced to Smaller Pieces
• 1 Bunch Asparagus, Similarly Mangled
• 1 Shallot, Minced
• 3 Cloves Garlic, Minced
• 2 Glugs Olive Oil

1. Combine flour and butter in medium saucepan on medium-low heat and stir frequently until a light-brown hue becomes apparent.
2. Briskly whisk in cup of hot milk, making sure to work out all lumps. Take off-heat if feeling rushed. Stir until a very thick consistency is reached, something along the lines of soft-serve ice-cream. Kill heat and whisk in salt, paprika, and pepper. Let cool until it won't burn you.
3. Preheat oven to 400F
4. Saute shallot and asparagus in an olive-oiled large pan until tender. Add garlic and a tablespoon or two of water before adding spinach. Cover to steam spinach, stir if necessary. Remove from heat once everything is soft.
5. Incorporate egg yolks and cheese into milk concoction, followed by the vegetable matter.
6. Beat egg whites to soft peaks and fold gently into the the milk mixture.
7. Butter souffle ramekins, Pyrex measuring cups (it works, I tried it), or similar vessels and pour mixture to rim. Depending on the size of the containers used a different number will be required — I used 3 ramekins and one Pyrex measuring cup. Pop into oven and turn down to 375F after a few minutes. Cook until tops are golden-brown and the mixture has set (won't jiggle when shaken gently), maybe 25 minutes.

NB: For added height the adventurous can put the oven on broil to start and blast the souffles for a very short length of time — just enough to caramelize the tops a bit. Turn heat down to 375F and continue to cook as usual. Nominally the moisture is locked in and helps push up the souffle.

May leftovers impress your friends.

Pizza, Meet Internet

Food blogs seem to run a dime-a-dozen. I found that each time I was sure I'd thought of a good name someone had already used up that one, too. What couldn't be overcome by sheer originality was made up for with silliness. Since I am apparently not endowed with either quality, I thank Meg for sparing me some of her reserves.

Some crazy girl wearing lederhosen once misheard me and thought my name was Ham — this was around the White Mountains in New Hampshire, outside of a log cabin, in the middle of the woods. It is probably an obvious nickname for me, though I'm surprised the circumstances didn't yield something crazier. This explains "Ham" despite introducing further questions.

I am a graduate student in physics at a lesser known UC in Southern California, where I have refused to invest in an automobile. This has created a very skewed sense of "convenience" for me, since any trip to the store involves biking up at least one obnoxious hill. Growing vegetables seems easier, sometimes, though I'm almost certainly deluding myself. At any rate, here is something good to do with tomatoes pretty enough to save from being crushed into some sort of sauce. Drawing some of their moisture out really helps in avoiding a potential sog factory.

Pizza with Fresh Tomatoes and Pesto

For the Crust: Makes Two

• 3 Cups Flour in your favorite proportions
• 2 1/4 Tsp. yeast proofed in 1/2 cup warm water
• 3/4 Cups Warm Milk
• 1 1/2 Tsp Salt
• 2 Glugs Olive Oil

For the Toppings

• 2 Very large tomatoes
• 2 Cups of assorted toppings
• Pesto
• More Olive Oil
• Interesting cheese, finely grated
• Seasoning

1. Proof yeast until showing signs of life. Combine everything in a food processor with plastic blade and work until a ball forms. Let the dough regroup for a few minutes and process again briefly. Work by hand until dough satisfies the "windowpane test." Let rise covered until impatience sets in: 1 1/2 hours or so for me.
2. Slice tomatoes thinly and press with paper towels to draw out as much moisture as possible. Other, less sinful, methods can be devised. Preheat oven to 500F at least 20 minutes before baking.
3. Mince toppings finely — I went for shallots, garlic, a pepper, and olives.
4. Tear parchment to fit pizza stone or backside of a sheet pan.
5. Divide dough into two pieces, form into balls, and let rest for several minutes. Don't ignore this step.
6. Mold pizza to inscribe whatever shape you're cooking on and place on parchment. I suggest using a rolling pin to get things off to a good start, and then stretching by hand from the edges. Avoid making the center too thin. Let rest if being stubborn.
7. Brush outer rim with olive oil and lightly apply pesto around the rest of the pizza. Lay down one tomato's worth of slices, then spread toppings. Finally apply the cheese. I find mozzarella quite boring by itself — augment with something sharp like aged Gouda or Parmesan. Big clumps of cheese impede proper cooking.
8. Deposit in oven and bake until crust and bottom are golden, 10 minutes max if your oven has stayed hot

NB: For the flour I use 1/3 each of all-purpose, wheat, and bread flours. I do not have a good reason for this methodology aside from superstitiously believing that bread flour makes the dough more resilient against tears. Add a pinch of sugar to the yeast in order to entice them.

Aside from the changed flour mixture, this dough recipe is courtesy of Julia Child's "The Way to Cook." Despite its pretentious title, I had this book way before it was cool. Draining the fresh tomato slices is a matter of necessity rather than choice, I hope your pizza is sog-free.