Welcome Back, Blogger. ;)

Check.

Check.

......Is this thing on?

Hello, Orange & Salt readers! I've missed you. Where have I been? Well, you can choose from a long, long list of excuses, including but not limited to: working at my job, working in the studio, enjoying the beautiful winter weather, hiking, biking, participating in an art show, knitting, walking my dog, frantically filling Christmas Etsy orders, blogging for my job, decorating my house for Christmas, and also somewhat frantically preparing for a cross-town move immediately post-Christmas. Whew. But they're all excuses, dear readers, what can I say? Eventually, I knew I'd have to return to the blog. I missed you all too much. :)

So here it is, in photos, a brief history of the last few weeks to get us up to speed:

There was ravioli, made with fresh, handmade pasta and a sausage filling with cheese and arugula. Served tossed lightly in brown butter and sprinkled with pecans. The recipe for this is, I assure you, coming soon.

There was fancy dinner at my parents' house, during which all manner of bizarre cooking and feeding rituals took place.

At fancy dinner, we fancily dined upon crispy paprika chickpeas, golden rolled spinach & feta phyllo cigars, pan-sauteed ribeyes with pommes dauphinois (a la Dad), and an amazing dark chocolate hazelnut tart. Because this family is fancy indeed.

Then, at some point, there was my first taste of gizzards. Gizzards: a true revelation......and almost as much fun to say as they are to eat! Try it: 'Honey, what's for dinner?' 'GIZZARDS. Gizzards are for dinner.' 'Gizzards??' 'GIZZARDS.' It's hours of fun, especially when you add funny accents.

Chewy, with strangely dark & hidden depths, gizzards are full of fatty flavor (especially when dredged in flour and fried until golden and crispy) and a faintly organlike whiff about them. I can't explain it, but they're truly addictive. Kind of like evil McNuggets. We took them to a friend's tapas party and ate them dipped in ketchup and sriracha sauce, a mixture I cannot recommend highly enough.

In November, Mike and I celebrated our first wedding anniversary (aawwwwwww!!) with an amazing dinner at The Mission in Scottsdale, a 'modern Latin' restaurant. Something else I can't recommend highly enough: dinner at The Mission. Seriously. I've been scheming excuses to go back ever since we left, it's that wonderful. Pictured above: my appetizer, roast corn gorditas loaded with squash, zucchini, corn, crema, and huitlacoche.........YES, you read that right, blackened corn fungus. Infected corn! It's not often that this pops up on menus, but I've always yearned to try it, and it didn't disappoint. It's earthy, as you'd expect, with a trufflelike identity. Those of us who love the fungus family (I'm definitely among that number) will adore this one.

Not pictured: Mike's appetizer, the succulent (yes, so succulent that I am actually forced to use that word to describe these) duck carnitas empanadas. I stole as much of this as he would allow before he began defending himself with his fork and steak knife. I tried. :)

Also shown above: my entree, the outrageously, plate-lickingly good (seriously, I'd had a fair amount of Argentinian red wine by this point, and may or may not have actually licked my plate when no one was looking, I'm not telling) chorizo porchetta with rosemary, served with white bean puree and sweet garlic crema. I howled with despair when the side order of puree and crema disappeared, it was that amazing. And Mike's entree of braised short ribs with chorizo, black beans and pureed plantain and sweet potato, plus the dessert of crispy chocolate and cinnamon churros, dipped in an espresso milkshake.........ohhhh. Well, I can't wait to go back. I just can't wait. Anyone up for dinner? Call me.

For Thanksgiving, there was pie. Sweet, caramel apple pie in homemade pastry, with festive autumn leaf designs. For that extra Martha touch.

And finally, more often than not, there was just simple food shared at a warm and loving table. Like soup, humble tomato soup with a touch of cream and a lively sprinkling of fresh basil. Although I admittedly love the big, fancy blowout 'event' dinners we've made and participated in along the way, this is ultimately my favorite kind of meal to share. A simple bowl of warm tomato soup.

It tastes like love. :)

Simple Tomato Soup

(serves 4-6 portions....add crusty bread for dipping and it's a full, hearty meal)

2 28 oz. cans of diced tomatoes in tomato juice (since it's winter. However, if tomatoes are in season, feel free to use fresh)

1 32 oz. box of chicken stock

extra virgin olive oil

1 cup diced yellow onion

1/2 tablespoon crushed garlic

1 tsp. dried oregano

splash of Worcestershire or soy sauce

half pint of heavy cream

pinch of sugar

salt & pepper

fresh basil

Heat a few tablespoons of olive oil in large skillet over medium heat, add onion and saute until soft and beginning to brown. Add half the garlic and saute quickly for 30 seconds. Add one can of tomatoes, including juice, increase heat to high and bring mixture to a boil while stirring constantly. Add oregano and a splash of either Worcestershire or soy sauce (sounds crazy, but it adds a hidden, deep dark note of savory umami that will be noticeable--though subtle--all the way through), reduce heat to medium-low, and simmer for about 30 minutes, stirring occasionally to make sure nothing is sticking to the pan. The mixture should be visibly darker and reduced at this point.

Add mixture to large stockpot with chicken stock and remaining can of tomatoes. Puree with immersion blender (or process in batches in a standard blender; because you have cooled the mixture by adding the room temperature ingredients, this should be fairly easy at this point). Add the remaining garlic, bring back to a boil in stockpot, then reduce heat to low and simmer, uncovered, for 30 more minutes.

Remove from heat and add sugar (to balance the acidity of the tomatoes), salt and pepper to taste. Add cream to taste (this soup is wonderful in different ways both with cream and without; how much you add, anywhere from a tablespoon to the full half pint, is up to you. We won't tell if you add all the cream, though.).

Serve immediately, topped with fresh chopped basil. Spoon up the love!

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.