Pan-Fried Shishito Peppers

Welcome to The Roaming Kitchen’s brand new, very first, Friday mini-post! I’ve decided to share my kitchen exploits with you, lovely readers, more than once a week.

These installations will fall somewhere between actual recipes and photographic inspiration; they are meant to be very simple, and manageable for even the most reluctant cook. Some ingredients will reflect the season, but more often than not, this column will show you how to coax new life into a leftover slice of bread, a nub of cheese, or a vegetable wilting in the crisper.

So, without further ado, Shishito peppers: Read more »

Salt-Crust Chicken with Buttermilk Dressing

I’ve known for some time that baking whole fish in a salt crust is a super-duper prize idea: It’s easy, it’s dramatic, and best of all, it results in foolproofishly (get it?) soft, tender fish. It wasn’t until I offered to write a recipe for these lovely people that I began to realize the sheer possibilities of salt crusts.

It’s really down to J. Kenji López-Alt, who knows what the fish fingers he’s talking about. His recipe series, The Food Lab, delves deeply into the chemistry of what makes a dish tick. He experiments with food from all possible angles, providing pictures along the way. In doing so, he illuminates the reasons why something works, and just as importantly, why something doesn’t work. I’ve learned a lot from this man.

In perusing an article he wrote on salt crusts, I came across his recipe for salt-crust chicken. It just makes sense. The salt traps moisture, and gently flavors the chicken in cooking. While you don’t achieve the crispy skin of a roasted chicken, you do come away with meat that’s impossibly soft and juicy, even the breast meat. You can basically use any herb/aromatic combination you like, so this preparation becomes endlessly adaptable as well. Read more »

Peach Melba

When I was small, my family frequented a restaurant that (now I think upon it) offered a rather old-world array. (An appropriate continuation from last week’s old-world dessert soliloquy.) I distinctly remember Steak Diane–a towering portion of filet mignon bathed in buttery pan gravy I now know was amplified by garlic, shallots, Worcestershire, brandy, and cream. It felt so luxurious, to eat steak so thoroughly sauced. A generous showering of chopped parsley was all that interrupted the dish’s monotonous brown.

And then there was dessert. Peach Melba, served in a giant red wine glass. One slick orb of peach, at least two scoops of vanilla ice cream, and many running, garnet rivulets of raspberry coulis. Here is what I remember: swooning over the tart brightness of the raspberry sauce, contrasted by the creamy sweetness of the ice cream. How gorgeous the dessert looked, when the ice cream melted into the raspberry. Read more »

Tomato-Pancetta Stacked Salad

The Frenchman is gone on a two-week business trip, and I am restless. I walk to the market, to get out of the house, to take a break from writing. On a whim, I buy two punnets of raspberries, right out of the gate.

Consider folding them into cold cream. There are egg whites in the fridge which, stiffened with almond extract, makes a raspberry version of Eton Mess. Or, simmer the raspberries with honey until they collapse, swooning, into a syrupy jam. You could thin the cream with milk and make a posset. If you are charmed by old world, summer desserts, try a fool, a cranachan, a syllabub. Read more »

Summer Tartines

If I am truthful, dear readers, this week’s post has been causing me some disquiet. (As far as food blogs are allowed to cause disquiet.)

It’s the beginning of August. Summer squash, tomatoes, corn, blueberries, and peaches are all abundant. I know this, because I have been buying and eating them in abundance.

Mostly, I prepare them in the simplest manner possible. Chopped tomatoes and corn make an excellent salad, flecked with red onion, garlic and jalapeño slivers, zipped with a touch of olive oil and red wine vinegar. Peaches need only to be sliced, added to a bowl of blueberries, and topped with maple syrup-laced yogurt. I like to add crushed Marcona almonds for crunch. Any kind of summer squash can be simmered with tomatoes, garlic, onion and eggplant to make a ratatouille that you’ll happily re-heat all week. Toss in some thyme, basil, or a bay leaf, if you happen to have them. Read more »

Gazpacho with Peaches and Jalapeño

To all my friends who say, “Cristina, I enjoy looking at your recipes, but I would never attempt one,” please let me tell you upfront: this is one you can (and should) make. It’s really, super-duper simple. It requires few dishes. The instructions boil down to: chop vegetables, mix vegetables.

It also happens to be really delicious. The ingredients are a riot of summer–a balance of sweetness and acidity, with just a gentle nudge in the direction of spicy. Those Spaniards are really on to something, because gazpacho is an ideal hot weather dish.

Here’s where some readers will groan, but please bear with me: Read more »

Lamb Meatballs with Fava Hummus

A few weeks ago, the Frenchman and I went out to dinner with a friend who was in town for a visit. Despite an après-dark temperature of 100°, we decided to sit outside. Apparently we like to be uncomfortably hot. We split a selection of small plates, and ran through more than one carafe of chilled red wine.

This friend (let’s call him Monsieur Macaroon, as he’s quite skilled at making them, and I’m still holding out hope he’ll teach me his methods) told a story about a recent, unpleasant trip to the French embassy. While MM does not have a classically French name, he does hold a French passport and birth certificate. As a result of his ‘foreign-sounding’ name though, the person behind the desk demanded further, written evidence of his Frenchness, before they would proceed with his paperwork. Read more »

Lobster Salad Sandwiches

Dear reader, I had every intention of dispatching a lobster yesterday.

I wasn’t looking forward to it, for several reasons. For starters, the last time I whacked a crustacean was in culinary school. It was 110° with the stoves turned off. We were each given a silver bowl full of wriggling, mud-brown crabs, and then on went the ranges. I poured a wheel of oil into my large pot, and waited until it was nearly smoking. After a silent “excusez-moi” to my ill-fated crabs, I tipped them in.

The truth is, the smell of ten bowls-worth of little crabs in a very hot kitchen is not the finest scent in the world. I would not recommend bottling it for sale. Read more »