Zucchini Tomato Gratin

I haven't met very many snooty foodies. I actually, haven't met very many foodies. Sure, I see them on TV, read about them in magazines, and look at their cookbooks. Acting like they are too good for the ingredients available at the grocery store, and implying that everyone should be able to drop $120 on lobster to mix into some pasta for a summer lunch. They throw around phrases nobody understands, and flaunt French like they were born doing it. It's fun to watch for a little while, then it starts getting old. I love reading about food, different cultures, and how food brings people together. I don't, however, love reading about surfers and chefs summering at their beach houses, catching fresh fish and foraging for wild herbs in a weekend vacation that would have paid to feed half the population in Cambodia. I believe in efficiency in the kitchen. That means I am not going to spend $25 on a random ingredient just because a celebrity chef acts like I can't live without it.
Don't get me wrong. I am a foodie. I read everything I can get my hands on about food. Not about celebrity chefs,

Give Peas a Chance

I remember going to the farmer's market as a teenager, and thinking it was pretty awesome. I loved looking at all the fresh fruits and vegetables, honeys, candied nuts, and homemade jams. The market has changed a bit from what I remember, and not its not uncommon to see fresh pastas and ethnic foods being offered. Which I think is absolutely wonderful. If I see one it is really quite hard for me to keep driving. I just want to stop and see what they have. When visiting Seattle a little while ago, I visited theirs. Stunning. I adored it. I seriously considered moving there. Not only is there a fantastic farmer's market that has everything, and I mean everything (if you have never been it encompasses several blocks), but also there are coffee shops on every corner, the ocean is right there, and the weather is gorgeous!
I remember, though, when visiting a farmer's market a few years ago, when the realization hit me that the foodstuffs displayed there were not organic. Sure, they were local, but for some reason I had it in my mind that all of the purveyors at the farmer's market were only supplying local, organic items. I admit the whole idea lost some of its luster. I began to realize that my best bet for local and organic was growing it myself, unless I was willing to auction off the last of our furniture and put the kids up for sale. I love gardening, so that's not really an issue. The last few years I was able to get a good-sized garden going, and managed to eat only the vegetables produced therein for most of the summer (except for a few special items).

During this process, I discovered one of the most delicious vegetables to eat fresh are peas. They are amazing when you take them straight from the garden and toss them in some butter. Now, before you shut down and put the blinders up, think about the peas you have eaten. I have said it before and I will say it again, I am a firm believer that most people don't like certain veggies because they didn't like the way they were prepared as a child. Peas are another vegetable that gets a bad rap. I don't like canned peas, but frozen peas can be found  year round, for just a about a buck and a half, or less, and they are super quick and easy to prepare. I always have at least one bag in my freezer (they also double as quick ice packs) and reach for them when I am in a rush. We don't eat them that often, because I try to serve fresh vegetables for most meals, but they are definitely handy.
Peas are absolutely delicious with mint. If you have never had it you are probably thinking to yourself right now, "Are you sure?" I'm sure. Not a handful, just chiffonade a few leaves and toss them in at the end for a subtle flavor. Amazing. Most of us have an annoying spearmint plant taking over a portion of our back yard, you can always go that route, or just pick up a small bunch at the grocery store.
I start by sauteing some finely chopped shallots in butter until they are soft, if you don't have shallots, you can substitute another onion. Whey they are soft, throw in the peas, toss them around in the buttery, oniony sauce, sprinkle on some salt and fresh cracked pepper. Put a lid on for about 5 minutes, throw in the mint and toss it around again. Pretty easy. Pretty good.
Give peas a chance.

Spring peas
Serves 6

2 Tablespoons butter
1/2 a shallot, finely chopped
1 1-lb bag frozen peas
salt and pepper to taste
about 10 mint leaves, thinly sliced

Melt butter in a medium saucepan over medium heat. Saute shallot until translucent. Add peas. Toss to coat. Sprinkle with salt and pepper, and cover. Cook for about five minutes, or until peas are just warmed through. Add mint leaves and toss again. Serve immediately.

Chicken and Peas

I have to say, the weather has been quite strange. One day, it is so warm I think we skipped spring and hit summer, and the next it is chilly and raining! I'm  not complaining- I love the rain. I get this itch when the weather is overcast and it only goes away when I bake something. Today, in celebration of the dismal weather, I made some lovely orange-scented wedding cupcakes. I wanted to make banana bread, but I didn't quite have time. When the weather is like this I also love soups and stews and cassoulets and brewing a fresh pot of coffee at 2:30.
One dish that I really like on days like this I stumbled across in one of my favorite magazines. I often forget about it, then suddenly remember it when I see some lonely frozen peas in the freezer. Its a meal that comes together quickly, with a few ingredients, and gives you time to put together a salad and throw a dessert in the oven. Its perfect for days like this because it is homey, and comforting. It is simple and frank, a bit rustic in its own way. It was also an excuse to use my new dutch oven, even though I really didn't need it for this dish.
It takes about an hour, from start to finish, but a lot of that time it is just bubbling away on the stove, giving you time to sip your coffee and play tetris. Or whatever you do with your free time. I actually used the time to pipe obscene amounts of frosting onto my orange cupcakes.

This recipe calls for chicken thighs, which I suppose could be substituted for another part of a chicken, or pork or beef for that matter. I have been faithful to the thighs. With the skin on. Not what I usually do, but this dish turns out so good I don't want to change it. It also demands peas, which could be swapped for corn, or carrots, but I like peas. Especially in this dish. They are bright and sweet, and add something lovely to the chicken and rice.

An uncommon ingredient listed here is saffron. I happen to have some, so I always put it in. I read reviews by others that said they omitted it, and I suspect that would work out fine.

So, in essence, what I am telling you is feel free to experiment, to change things around, add what you like, and take away what you don't. The basic concept is delicious. But, I would try it this way first. You might decide to stick with it.

Chicken with Peas and Rice

serves 4

1 pound chicken thighs with skin and bone

2 tablespoons unsalted butter,

1 tablespoon olive oil

1 large onion, chopped

3 garlic cloves, minced

1 cup white rice

1 cup chicken broth

3/4 cup water

1/4 teaspoon crumbled saffron threads

1 Turkish or 1/2 California bay leaf

1 cup frozen peas (not thawed)

Pat chicken dry and season with 3/4 teaspoon salt and 1/2 teaspoon pepper (total). Heat butter and oil in a 12-inch heavy skillet (at least 2 inches deep) over medium-high heat until foam subsides, then brown chicken, turning once, about 10 minutes total. Transfer chicken with tongs to a plate.

Pour off all but 2 tablespoons fat from skillet. Cook onion and garlic with 1/4 teaspoon each of salt and pepper over medium heat, stirring, until golden, about 6 minutes. Add rice and cook, stirring, 1 minute. Add broth, water, saffron, and bay leaf and bring to a full boil. Nestle chicken in rice, keeping as much rice around (rather than under) chicken as possible, and add juices from plate. Simmer, covered tightly with lid, over low heat until chicken is cooked through, rice is tender, and most of liquid is absorbed, about 25 minutes. Remove from heat and stir in peas. Cover with the lid and let stand until all of liquid is absorbed, about 10 minutes. Discard bay leaf.

Memories

When I was growing up, my exposure to different kinds of vegetables was, shall we say, severely limited. We subsisted on the same parade of veggies: canned corn, canned green beans, raw carrot sticks, a frozen veggie mix that included lima beans (much to the dismay of my siblings and me), and occasionally lettuce in the rare form of a salad or on a sandwich. Now, don’t get me wrong. I had tried many different vegetables: Stringy celery with peanut butter, a dull-colored, limp, steamed broccoli, frozen corn on the cob that had been drowned in a bath of butter. One time my mom made steamed zucchini. It was limp and waterlogged and it kind of tasted like earwax. She actually didn’t make us finish that.
I tried canned spinach that my grandpa made, and carrots that had been cooked with honey and raisins. By this point, I had pretty much decided that I liked vegetables: Canned corn and canned green beans. Just about everything else I had tasted was bland and overcooked or smothered in something I didn’t like.
When I was five or six, I would get the salad bar when my family went to Sizzler. My parents thought it was hilarious. I really like salad. We never seemed to have it at home and I thought the wonderful buffet of bacon flavored bits, canned pineapple, black olives and cut up ham pieces was divine. It was a delightful experience to create your own masterpiece. When I became a teenager I started cooking meals for the family once every week or two. I really enjoyed it. I remember my first: mom’s turkey meatloaf, baked potatoes and salad.
My mom had always taught me that every meal needs vegetables to balance out the plate. She would buy flats of canned corn or green beans from Costco so those were the usual accompaniment to a meal. That or the very rare salad. I actually preferred salad, and if I was the one cooking I would load it with tomatoes, carrot shreds, olives and shredded cheese.
As I came into my teen years I enjoyed cooking more and more. My cream cheese pumpkin roll became a staple at church potlucks and I began to bake lemon meringue pies, pumpkin pies (from actual pumpkins that I cooked), pumpkin bread and an orange meringue pie that was my own creation. I began experimenting with foods more and more and making up my own recipes for things.
It was at this crucial point that I discovered an intense pleasure overwhelmed me when I went to the store and saw the produce aisle. There were so many things I had never tried and, to me, looking at the stunning rainbow of fresh fruits and vegetables was like looking at the myriad of colors offered at an art supply store. My mind went so many places at once.
I loved loading those lightweight plastic bags with tomatoes, lemons, oranges and other similar fare. I didn’t venture too far, I was a little intimidated by things I wasn’t familiar with, and I had no idea how to cook any vegetable from its fresh state. I didn’t really progress much farther in my cooking experimentation until I got married. At just twenty we settled down into our little nest and different vegetables started making their way onto our table.
I think we had two different kinds of vegetables in addition to salad the first time we had my parents over for dinner. I started with a bamboo steamer that was given to me as a wedding gift and loaded it with vegetables. I simply dressed broccoli and carrots with salt and pepper and actually enjoyed eating them. My husband is a great sport and even though he declared he wasn’t very fond of vegetables, he soon began finishing his servings and asking for more.
My next big task was green beans. I remembered eating Thanksgiving dinner with friends and a woman had cooked who was a food editor for Sunset magazine. She made these green beans that had bacon and red onions in them and they were out of this world. I decided that I was going to make green beans that rivaled my memory of hers.

I tried a few different things, and, honestly, they were good to start with. Sautéed in bacon grease and braised in chicken stock, they were garlicky, still a little crunchy and absolutely delicious. How could I go wrong? I have made many variations and they have all been a hit with my family. I have to admit, I am a little leery of straying too far because, let’s face it, how could they get much better?
I have added several other vegetable recipes to my repertoire, some that were bestowed by somebody’s grandma (like Parsley carrots-so easy but out of this world!) and some that were discovered in magazines and cook books.
Whenever spring’s first offerings begin making their way to the produce aisle I get giddy with an excitement that is usually reserved for children around Christmas time. When I look at the gleaming plethora of fresh, perfectly ripe vegetables, I fantasize about new recipes and different combinations. I can’t wait to rush home and make roasted asparagus with tomatoes and bacon, my special green beans or simple new potatoes with butter. In the summer, fresh corn with lime, butter and cayenne pepper finds its way to our table almost once a week and my freezer begins to fill with fresh picked blackberries and strawberries, awaiting their transformation into jewel-toned jams or pancake toppings.
In summer, the Famer’s Market comes to our city and California’s Central Valley offers a stunning array of vegetables, fruits and nuts that are grown within this area of our state. Perusing the fresh zucchini, yellow summer squash, huge bunches of fragrant basil, rosy red tomatoes, crisp green beans, red and yellow onions, and heady garlic, I want to buy bunches of everything. This is the time of year I make pesto, and freeze it for later use. There are also tantalizing pickles of all kinds, roasted and flavored nuts, honeys, preserves and dressings that inspire and delight.
Even in late September, when the first, bright orange pumpkins, sweet butternut squash and garnet yams make the scene, to announce that autumn is truly here, regardless of what the calendar says, my mind runs wild thinking of soups, breads, desserts and muffins.
My fridge and freezers fill up with cooked pumpkin, shredded zucchini and butternut squash, and my fridge holds a store of broccoli, the years last asparagus and of course carrots, celery and green beans. Different lettuces crowd my produce drawer and tomatoes, apples and citrus sit in bowls on the counter and there is a special section of my kitchen for red potatoes, russet potatoes and onions.
One place stays free of vegetables, though.
My pantry.

Green Beans with Bacon


Serves 4

I TBS Bacon Grease

2 Slices Bacon

1 lb. green beans, trimmed and cleaned

¼ cup finely chopped shallot (or red onion)

2 cloves of garlic, minced

½ cup chicken stock, homemade preferred

1 tsp freshly ground coarse black pepper

Salt to taste

Melt bacon grease in a large, heavy bottomed saucepan over medium high heat. Cook bacon pieces until crispy. Remove from pan, reserve. Add green beans, shallot and garlic, tossing to coat with bacon grease and brown lightly on all sides. Raise heat to high. Just as the beans begin to darken, add chicken stock and immediately cover. Continue cooking until most of the liquid has been absorbed, around five minutes. While the beans are cooking, chop the bacon into small pieces, reserve. Removed lid, toss beans in remaining liquid, add the bacon, black pepper, and salt to taste. Continue tossing until there is about two tablespoons of liquid left in the bottom of the pan. Serve immediately.



Variations: Add 5 oz. chopped mushrooms when you raise the heat to high

Add a half a chopped tomato after the beans have finished cooking (adds beautiful color!)

Drizzle a little balsamic vinegar at the end for a zesty flavor

Add ¼ cup orange or lemon juice with the chicken stock and reduce the chicken stock to ¼ cup. Add the finely grated zest of the fruit at the end and a ¼ tsp. red pepper flakes