Appetizers for Dinner: Better Living Through Small Bites

I'm a great date, really. Take me out to a restaurant, any restaurant, and I'll regale you with sparkling, witty conversation, periodically punctuated with thoughtful, good-listener pauses. I know how to use a napkin, and I'm reasonably confident which fork is which. Really. I'm a great date.

What I am also, though, is a terrible orderer. I linger over menus, frozen with indecision, as unsure over which entree to select as though it were a life-and-death decision. Too small in stature for most multi-course meals (the phrase I often heard in childhood was 'eyes bigger than your stomach,' which sadly couldn't be more true. Huge eyes, teeny stomach. Unless you've got six hours to spend with me, the nine-course tasting menu is out), the choice does become kind of crucial. It can make or break an evening! Most often I end up liking what's on my plate, but loving whatever it is that my husband's ordered, and thus spending most of the night conducting sneaky, behind-enemy-lines raids on his plate with a dive-bombing fork. Which is fine until your dining partner finally catches on and begins defending himself with his steak knife, as mine will inevitably do.

The better option is to go for what I really want, which is many, many tiny bites of a variety of good things. You know. The tapas bar, the dim sum joint, even the humble office potluck--I love them all. I could, and have in fact been known to, make an entire meal out of appetizers when dining out. At home when we can't think of anything inventive to throw on the dinner table (which happens with disturbing frequency considering we're a foodie household, but hey, we're also employed full time.......and, y'know, human), we turn to two meals we call 'Bruschetta' (stuff on garlic-rubbed toasts) and 'Veggie Tapas' (sometimes this actually includes meats, but more often it's things like crispy paprika chickpeas, chilled cucumber salad, whole steamed artichokes, or Mike's Turkish roasted peppers with garlic yogurt dipping sauce). But occasionally, we raise the bar on 'Appetizer Evenings' to include some more ambitious small bites. Here's a roundup of some recent standouts.

All-phyllo extravaganza: Crispy 'Cigars' of Spinach & Feta, Caramelized Onions & Feta, and Black Forest Ham-Wrapped Asparagus Spears. Also, Phyllo 'Purses' of Mushroom Duxelles with Drunken Goat Cheese.

Crispy 'Cigars' of Spinach & Feta

Phyllo sheets

olive oil

2 cups of baby spinach, chopped

1/2 cup feta

lemon

1 tsp. minced garlic

Thaw phyllo according to package instructions. Preheat oven to 350 degrees. To make filling: saute spinach in a small amount of olive oil until spinach is soft and most of the moisture has evaporated. Add minced garlic and a squeeze of lemon juice, saute for 30 seconds, then remove pan from heat. Add feta, stir until throughly mixed. Set aside to cool.

Cut sheets of phyllo into 1/4 sheets. Take 1/4 sheet and brush one side with olive oil. Place about a tablespoon of cooled filling at one end, squoosh with fingers into a long line of filling. Roll phyllo sheet into cigar shape, brush outside with olive oil, place on baking sheet. Repeat until filling is gone. Bake for about 15-20 minutes, or until outside is golden brown and crispy. Makes about 8 'cigars.'

Crispy 'Cigars' of Black Forest Ham-Wrapped Asparagus Spears

Phyllo sheets

olive oil

8 asparagus spears

4 slices of Black Forest (or other) ham

Follow instructions above regarding thawing & preheating. Wash & trim asparagus spears, then saute in a small amount of olive oil until about halfway cooked (this gives wonderful flavor but helps to eliminate overcooking), they should still be very crunchy but slightly browned on the outside. Let cool.

Cut sheets of phyllo into 1/4 sheets. Take 1/4 sheet and brush one side with olive oil. Cut slices of thin, deli-sliced Black Forest ham (prosciutto would also be good here, you know, if you're fancy) in half. Roll one asparagus spear in one half-slice of ham, then place on phyllo sheet and roll into cigar shape, brush outside with olive oil, place on baking sheet. Repeat until filling is gone. Bake for about 15-20 minutes, or until outside is golden brown and crispy. Makes 8 'cigars.'

Phyllo 'Purses' of Mushroom Duxelles with Drunken Goat Cheese

Phyllo sheets

olive oil

butter

1 cup finely diced mushrooms (plain white button or crimini mushrooms work well)

3 T. grated cheese (I had a leftover chunk of my favorite 'Drunken Goat' cheese, so that's what I used. Heaven.)

1 tsp. fresh thyme leaves, chopped a little

1 tsp. cornstarch, mixed with 1 tsp. water

2 chives or scallion greens, for presentation (not necessary, but cute)

Follow instructions above regarding thawing & preheating. Saute in butter until soft and lightly browned. Add cornstarch mixture, continue cooking & stirring for about 60 seconds longer, then remove from heat. Add fresh thyme & grated goat cheese, stir to mix throughly. Let cool.

Cut sheets of phyllo into 1/4 sheets. Take 3 of the 1/4 sheets and layer evenly, brushing one side with olive oil in between layers. Divide filling in half, shape into a ball, and place in the middle of phyllo stack. Bring edges up around filling and twist slightly to form 'purse' shape. Brush outside all over lightly with olive oil. Repeat with other half of filling. Bake for about 15-20 minutes, or until outside is golden brown and crispy. Let the outside cool slightly, then loosely tie chives or scallion greens in a single knot. Makes 2 'purses.'

Coconut Shrimp 'Lollipops' with Dipping Sauce

1 lb. shrimp (you should have about 20)

1 tsp. salt

1 tsp. sugar

fresh ground pepper

pinch of flour (about 1 T.)

2 eggs, beaten

1 T. soy sauce

Sriracha sauce

1 T. honey

1 cup shredded, unsweetened coconut

vegetable oil

bamboo skewers (one per shrimp)

Peel & devein shrimp if necessary, set aside in large bowl. Mix together salt, sugar, pepper and flour, then sprinkle over shrimp and toss to coat evenly. Mix together beaten eggs, soy sauce, honey, and sriracha (to your preferred level of spiciness--this is highly personal. I used about 1/2 tsp.). Curl each shrimp into a tight 'C' shape, then insert skewer through to form 'lollipops.' Dip each skewered shrimp in egg mixture, then in shredded coconut, pressing on coconut with your fingers or a fork to make sure it sticks.

Heat about 2" of oil in a deep skillet over medium high heat. Once oil is hot enough (test with shreds of coconut) place lollipops in oil (skewers will rest on the side of the pan. Be very careful of these if you're cooking over open flame! I use an electric burner stove), a few at a time. Cook until golden brown on either side, flipping once during cooking. Allow to drain on paper towels as you cook the rest in batches. Lollipops can be kept warm in a low oven if necessary, but are at their crispy-outside, tender-inside best when eaten immediately after cooking. Make & serve immediately if you can!

Serve with dipping sauce of choice--something sweet & sticky is preferable. Storebought Asian sweet chili sauce is perfect for this; plum sauce, hoisin, or apricot jam with a glug of sriracha mixed in would also be splendid. Sauce pictured above is a homemade concoction of soy sauce, honey & spicy mustard which was also amazing but for which I took no recipe notes whatsoever. Experiment away!

Picnic Season is Fleeting......

Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.


Tick.


That sound you hear is the sound of time slipping away moment by moment, the last precious days and weeks of spring ebbing away (in central Arizona, spring ends and summer begins in about, oh, April) until all we're left with is...........summertime. A cruel joke of a season in which temperatures soar to temperatures well in excess of 115 degrees and nothing fun is possible. No long, leisurely hikes in the desert. No mid-afternoon bicycle joyrides. No picnics.

No picnics.

The horror.

Picnics and roadtrips are like an American birthright, the predictable offspring of our wanderlust and our zest for eating anything on the move combined with some darker, murkier instinct from our distant European heritage to relaaaaax, spread out on the grass of the hillside for the whole afternoon and sip wine one small glass at a time until the sun is low and the whole bottle is gone. There should be sandwiches, of course, crisp with meat and juicy with other succulent things. There should be a real picnic blanket, and paper napkins, crisp with a briefly lingering fresh coolness from their proximity to the ice pack, and a refreshing bubbly beverage served in real glasses. There should be a cooling, crunchy salad of some kind, zesty with vinaigrette. There should be simple sweets, and a dog and a beloved partner by your side on the picnic blanket, if you can manage it. There should be a whole afternoon devoted to lazing, eating, sipping, lake-gazing, half-heartedly fishing (really just an excuse to enjoy the perfect weather lakeside, and you won't mind if you don't catch a thing, as we didn't), and just being in that one perfect moment before the weather turns horrible and it's all a distant, faded memory.

In full awareness of this weather-related dilemma, Mr. Orange & Salt and I decided a fancy weekend picnic outdoors was a long overdue event. We might even be instituting a 'mandatory fancy picnic' policy every weekend until the temperature tops 100, who knows? Because once we get there, my friends, it is a long, sweaty slog until late October or so, when it finally cools down again. And there are no picnics in sight along the way. Woe. So let's focus on the present while the weather here is gorgeous--mid 80s, sunny and clear! Hooray!

The Fancy Lakeside Picnic Menu:

Brie, Apple and Bacon Panini on Ciabatta Bread

Cold Asparagus Salad with Shallot Vinaigrette

Fresh Ataulfo 'Champagne' Mangoes & Dark Chocolate Squares

Finest Champagne*

( *if 'finest champagne' is readily available for $6 at the local grocery store, then yes, yes it certainly was the finest champagne)

It's important to consider a few variables when planning your fancy picnic.Is there anything that could melt or fall apart when moved around too much? Is my fancy picnic heavy or light? Am I going to be hiking beforehand, or driving directly to the picnic spot? Does it all need to fit into a cooler, a backpack, a series of tupperware containers? For our own fancy picnic, we knew we'd be driving most of the way, then hiking out a short distance to the lake, so we packed ours in a cooler with plenty of ice (seriously, food-borne illnesses are NOT your friend--ask me how I know--so use ice, ice, ice!!) in the car, then transferred it all to an easily-carried bag for hiking. All the edibles were securely wrapped in plastic or in sealed containers to protect them from melting ice, and all the breakables (champagne bottle, glasses) were wrapped in the picnic blanket itself. We know what we're doing--this ain't our first rodeo (picnic), yo. Make sure you plan accordingly!

Our picnic destination, beautiful Canyon Lake!


You can't be properly fancy until you've sipped champagne from a real glass (even if that glass is made from a recycled root beer bottle) al fresco. Pinkies out, please!

Our panini were crusty perfection, layered inside with crisp smoky bacon, sweet apple slices and gently oozing brie. Panini are actually a perfect picnic choice because they're so tightly compressed and easy to hold--all the filling stays in place, both while traveling and eating! And this particular variety is fantastic at 'room' (lakeside?) temperature. A picnic must.

Cool, crispy, asparagus vinaigrette salad. The key to this is not steaming the asparagus, but rolling them around for a few brief but intense minutes in a hot pan with some olive oil. They cook just enough to lose their raw edge, but still retain most of their primal crispiness. The heat and olive oil work to coax out just enough of the sweet, nutty asparagus flavor before reaching the 'overcooked sock' point (so easily attained by steaming), and best of all, some of them even pick up a little browned char spot here and there. Then cool them immediately and dunk in a savory, acidic vinaigrette, and you've got a perfect, elegant little salad. Easily tupperware'd for ease of travel.

Mr. Orange & Salt shows his appreciation for a masterpiece of a sandwich.

Our gorgeous picnic site, directly lakeside and right in the midst of the all the cattails. Mr. Orange & Salt bravely did some experimental fishing, after we'd stuffed ourselves silly with all that wonderful bread, cheese, wine and fruit, but didn't catch a single thing......and really, it was just as well. I don't think I could have eaten another bite. I am, however, hungry for another picnic. And we'd better hurry. Time's ticking awaaaayyyy..........

Brie, Bacon and Apple Panini

Ciabatta bread
1 Granny Smith apple
6 slices bacon
Brie cheese

Preheat oven to 350. Bake slices of bacon on foil-lined baking sheet until desired degree of doneness is achieved (this is a hotly contested point of debate in our house, and so I won't even presume to tell you how far to cook or not to cook them. Chewy versus crispy is up to you, just make them look delicious!). While bacon is bakin' (heh heh), peel and thinly slice the apple. Toss in a dry saute pan over medium high heat for a minute or so. The goal should not be to cook them, just heat them enough to take the 'rawness' out of them. Look for them to begin to wilt slightly and smell nice and 'apple-y,' then remove from heat.

Slice desired amount of brie. Slice desired quantity of ciabatta lengthwise to form a bun. Assemble sandwich with fully cooked bacon slices, apple slices, and cheese slices. Press down firmly to flatten. Place in dry saute pan (you may use a panini press here instead. What, you have one? I don't. I find you can achieve the exact same result with a hot, dry pan and a little watchfulness, so I'm not investing in one) over medium heat, pressing down slightly to crisp the surface of the bread.

Toast for a few minutes on each side, until bread begins to turn brown and crispy. Remove from heat, cool, wrap in plastic wrap for picnic time!

Cold Asparagus Vinaigrette Salad

One bunch fresh asparagus
5 tablespoons olive oil
2 tablespoons red wine vinegar
1 tablespoon peanut oil
2 tablespoons minced shallot
1 clove garlic, finely minced
1 tsp. dijon mustard
Honey, to taste
Salt & pepper, to taste

Clean & trim bottoms of asparagus. Take 2 of the tablespoons of olive oil, heat in a saute pan over medium high heat. Toss asparagus in hot oil for a few minutes until slightly browned in a few spots, but still crispy inside. Remove from pan and place on a plate in a single layer (I usually chop them into thirds at this point, too, for ease of eating later on); refrigerate to cool.

In medium sized bowl, place remaining 3 tablespoons of olive oil, plus peanut oil, vinegar, shallot, garlic and mustard. Whisk to combine. Taste, and add honey to taste to balance acidity, plus salt and pepper. Add chilled asparagus and either consume immediately or continue chilling.

Attempted Murder in the Suburbs.

Nearly a week ago today, I attempted murder. I stalked my victims, desperately, in two separate locations across town, only to be thwarted at every turn. And I'm not sorry. In fact, I plan to try again, and the next time, I will be successful. There will be blood on my hands, as well as on my conscience.

Put down your phone. Before you call the police, you should know that it will be the clear blood of crustaceans that I will have on my hands. And if all goes deliciously, all over my plate and my happy, smiling face as well.

This post, however, isn't just about failed attempts, but also about an eventual major kitchen success. Let me back up and explain a little. You see, last week I was eliminated from the online cooking challenge known as Project Food Blog, and while I'm proud of the efforts I put forth and satisfied to have made it through several eliminations, on the day I was cut from the contest I was feeling..........a little less than zen about the whole thing. Emotional, shall we say. Turbulent. Murderous.

I wanted to kill something for my dinner.

An image swam up suddenly in my memory. I recalled the plastic bucket of lively, crawling crawfish--crayfish?--that I'd seen just a few days' previously at the local Asian market when I was stocking up on tiny baby octopus. They look like sweet little wee baby lobsters, crawfish, and I have a major weakness for anything that crawls or wriggles forth from the sea in a shell. I'd already been somewhat prepared to do some Major Cooking that evening, just in case I made it through the latest round of PFB eliminations, and I'd had crustaceans on my mind. Surely fate had decreed these tiny lobsters to die for my supper. Yeah, fate, that's it. Fate. I headed to the Mekong Market, fork in hand and crustacean bib in place. But the crawfish, they were gone! Not a single claw left behind. Undeterred, I chased my intended victims south to my old favorite haunt, Lee Lee Market, usually the home of many still-living sea delights. And found.........nothing. Not one crawfish. I cursed and raged at having, apparently, missed crawfish season by a few poorly-timed days. Nothing would die for my dinner that evening, at least, not by my own hand. I settled, grumbling something about bloodlust, for a pound of truly tasty-looking giant whole prawns instead. I had some serious shrimp and grits on my mind.



'You were supposed to be a wriggling, living, sacrificial crawfish! My bloodlust must be satisfied!'


Just look at him. He's speechless with fright.

Classic shrimp and grits in a bowl are a fine thing, and I've been served more than one outstanding bowl of them in my lifetime. I remembered one version in particular that was sweetly smoky and spicy, flavored gently with bacon and possessing subtle heat. That was the taste I was after. Still I wanted to try something I'd never seen before, to see how far I could change up the form without getting too far away from the fact that this was, in essence, delicious shrimp and simple sweet ground corn on a plate. I decided to go with an uptown cousin of 'cheese grits,' a smooth slab of polenta infused with smoked provolone cheese. Sliced, baked until crispy-edged and stacked with a creamy shrimp filling in between each layer, towering high above the plate with a whole cooked creature perched on top, this is what I was picturing. Surrounded by a sprinkling of whole corn kernels browned lightly in butter, dressed with a smoky roasted tomato, chipotle & bacon concoction. Are you racing to the kitchen? Are you cooking this yet?? You should be.

Start with a few oven-roasted whole tomatoes. I baked a few pieces of bacon right alongside these, at 350, because I love the way bacon turns out in the oven instead of the stovetop. Press tomatoes through a wire mesh sieve to leave behind skins and seeds. Add a few chipotle peppers (your level of heat preference may vary) and the crumbled bacon, pulse briefly in food processor until sauce is combined but still chunky. Set aside.

Make polenta, adding plenty of grated smoked provolone cheese (smoked Gouda would also be amazing here). Pour into a pan, making sure that you get a layer at least 3/4" deep, for maximum interior-creaminess-to-exterior-crispiness ratio. Cool polenta. Slice polenta. Bake polenta at 425 degrees on a pan well coated in olive oil, for 40 minutes or until both sides are lightly browned (turn once, halfway through). This step takes the longest, but you can do everything else while waiting on the polenta to get crispy.

Prepare a pot of boiling water, salted lightly. If you've got a glug of white wine and a bayleaf handy, so much the better, get them in there. Take your giant prawns--wait, you bought those suckers in Chinatown with the heads on, right?? I sure hope so, fella, because there's nothing better than sucking the scalding hot head fat and brains out of these once they're cooked, believe me. You're going to suck on those things like something out of a George Romero movie. Say it with me now.......Fat Is Flavor. Good. Now take your giant, whole prawns and boil them briefly until cooked. Reserve one whole prawn per serving, then shell the rest and add to food processor along with softened cream cheese, making sure to squeeze the contents of each head into the mixture. Add a small amount of chipotle (I used one half of one pepper, subtle heat is what you're after here), pulse to combine but don't over-blend ('shellfish mousse' is not what you're after here), make sure there are still decent-sized pieces of shrimp visible in the mixture. Set aside.

Once your polenta squares have browned up nicely in the oven, lower heat to 350, then smear a little of the shrimp mixture on each square and stack to your desired height. Crown each stack with a very dignified-looking whole boiled prawn. Hint: a well-placed bamboo skewer applied here is an amateur food stylist's best friend. Place in warm oven for about a minute or two to re-warm everything and let flavors combine. While this is happening, quickly brown a small amount of butter in a skillet, place corn in butter and saute until done. Salt and pepper to taste. Remove plates from oven and place a ring of caramelized corn around each stack. Drizzle lightly with tomato-chipotle-bacon dressing. A handful of fresh, barely chopped basil is essential for finishing this off--the bright green herbal zing balances the heavier flavors perfectly.

A sprig of fresh basil also makes an ideal garnish. When I first dreamed up making this dish with a whole crawfish perched on top, I imagined him clutching a mini sprig of fresh herbs in one stiff, reddened claw, bouquet-style. Because really, what's more inviting than a dinner that says, 'Eat me! And here....I also brought you some flowers'? Shrimp not having claws and all, you'll kind of have to use your imagination here, but I think the effect is still charming.

Enjoy with the one you love, or at least the one you love well enough to share some reasonably expensive shellfish products with, and some nicely chilled white wine. Before long, your plates will look like this:




This was an amazing meal, a lot of work, certainly, but perfect for those time when you feel like doing some Major Cooking indeed. And it's proof of two things. One, that it's possible to elevate a relatively lowly or simple concept to something much more artistic and delicious without destroying it completely--in fact in this case, I think it's better than the original. And second, it's possible to dream up a meal and execute it more or less perfectly, even when your original plans go somewhat awry. Often times, it all works out in the eating.

And speaking of 'execute.' Hmmmm.

I may have missed crawfish season by a narrow margin, and my fever may have been temporarily quenched by this wonderful, satisfyingly pretty meal. But. But. This bloodlust never sleeps. Sooner or later, I will have the chance to murder again, and I'm planning it now. I saw some lively crabs scrambling around in a bucket at the market, after all, and it just might be their turn.............

Muaah hahh hahh haaaaaaahh.

'Smitten' with Warm Mushroom and Arugula Salad........

It should come as no surprise that, as a food blogger, I read other food blogs. Clotilde's Chocolate & Zucchini arouses a little Parisian frisson every time I read a new entry (and you have to love a good ampersand), David Lebovitz always inspires, I have read the entire famed 'Julie/Julia Project' blog from virtual cover to cover, and Deb's smitten kitchen and Molly's Orangette very often make me actually laugh out loud. Even the venerable Judith Jones (she of discovering-Julia-Child fame) blogs, for God's sake, and the woman is in her mid-80s! There's a wealth of food bloggery out there for the taking, the reading, and the (pardon the inexcusable food pun) digesting. And yet I read somewhere that most people don't actually use the wonderful recipes they come across online via food blogs; most people are in it largely for the breathless thrill of food porn alone. Whatever takes your fancy, I've been guilty of the same in the past......but when we're backed up against the wall over here with no dinner ideas in sight, and our imaginations fail us, we turn to three possible sources: The Library, The Files, or The Blogs.

The Library, as the name suggests, refers to Mike's and my collection of cookbooks. No tidy, Dewey decimal'ed shelf of books is this, but rather a sprawling, uneven clutch of books whose epicenter is the far corner of our small kitchen. Hardcovers, paperbacks, large and small books and pamphlets of all kinds squat together, punctuated by the occasional corner of a white sheet of paper protruding from a book, on which might be a handscrawled recipe for cornbread from Mike's dad, or printed out instructions from Alton Brown on how to construct the perfect holiday turkey from all the way brining to roasting. A pickling cookbook sits next to one specifically for soup, a book of traditional Austrian recipes nestles between Anthony Bourdain's Les Halles cookbook and Thomas Keller's French Laundry cookbook, and even Julia Child and Martha Stewart manage to bunk decently together without any elbowing or girlish hair-pulling.

The Files, as they are so vaguely referred to, represent years' worth of pulled recipes from magazines of all sorts that long ago met their fate in the recycling bin. These include such venerable publications as the New York Times Sunday magazine, Food & Wine and Bon Appetit, but also Every Day with Rachel Ray (what can I say? She's had some good recipes) and even the now-defunct JANE magazine (R.I.P.). When I see a recipe I'm likely to try (or even one I'd like to think I'll get around to, you know, someday), I pull it for The Files. Don't let the name fool you. Much like The Library, The Files are no glossy, organized affair, but an unbound, messy, sliding stack of loose magazine pages that have occupied various spots in the house and occasionally gets lost (as it did a few weeks ago when we misplaced the whole stack somehow and were desperately searching for a certain treasured jerk chicken recipe that was certain the be in The Files.....if only we could have found them! Alas.). The Files currently occupy one corner of a low ottoman in the dining room, next to some back issues of the Times and empty boxes we are saving one at a time for our move. At least, I think.



Finally, we also sometimes turn to The Blogs, a category which includes all the blogs I listed above plus many, many others. And it was in turning to The Blogs this past Monday that I found this gem via smitten kitchen: Warm Mushroom Salad with Hazelnuts (original recipe can be found here). My heart went pitter-pat. Warm mushrooms! Hazelnuts! Peppery greens and slivers of sharp pecorino! I had to have it, exactly as Deb suggested, with a slice of crusty bread alongside it and a warm poached egg snuggled on top. I even baked a loaf of bread specifically to have some on hand to go with this salad.

After making a few substitutions (okay, I hesitate to say 'compromises'), the tale of the warm mushroom salad had a happy ending.....it was delicious! I used grated parmesan as the cheese, formerly-dried morels and baby portobellos instead of an assortment of fresh wild mushrooms, and pecans stood in for expensive hazelnuts (oh, for the day we move to Oregon, where the streets are paved with hazelnuts and fresh morels!), it's true. But once the runny golden yolk of the poached egg was pierced and spread silkily throughout the warm innards of the salad, I was hooked on the nutty, rich, crunchy flavors. A little compromise worked out just fine in this case. With crusty bread in hand, I wiped the plate clean, readers.