This, That, The Other: 3 Recent Eats

1. A Black Seed Bagel

I had few days off work recently, and I spent them trying to do some fun New York-y things. I went to see some art, I had a fun solo lunch at Russ & Daughters, I went to see GONE GIRL at 2.40pm on a Tuesday. And I finally went to eat a bagel at Black Seed. Trekking into the city on a Sunday, and negotiating endless bread lines (yes, they are bread lines) at whichever Hip New Eatery? As people trying to sound like old men from New York say: fuhgeddaboudit. But late morning, mid-week — I had little to lose. The line wasn’t too bad, and I wrangled myself a place to sit by the window. I ordered an everything bagel (they don’t do pumpernickel! Maybe that’s the ***Montreal Bagel*** thing? I’d never eaten a ***Montreal Bagel*** before, so I don’t have anything to compare it to) with their beet cured lox (6.9/10) and some avocado. Of course, it was a little pricey, as was the Stumptown, but I knew that going into this. There’s always that brief moment of disappointment upon receiving a bagel that is smaller than anticipated, but truth is, it’s a size that probably makes more sense than the classic, doughy behemoths New York bagels often are. It’s very SoHo, and a little shame-inducing: “I cost more because I’m smaller and it’s for your own good,” and you’re like, “Yes bagel, you’re right and I’m a glutton for ever having wanted more :-/” Unless you are very hungry. Sometimes I am so hungry and I want every bite of those giant bagels. Anyway, I enjoyed my small and expensive Manhattan bagel, and I ate it sitting perched at the window seats, between two other solo bagel-eaters, looking out at all the people walking by in their dumb, cool clothes.

2. Possibly my final bottle of Grady’s Cold Brew Coffee for the season?

The weather has cooled right down but I can’t seem to say goodbye to cold coffee season. Last year, my pal Zach got me onto Grady’s Cold Brew – literally, without any doubt, the most delicious coffee I have ever tasted. I didn’t know it was possible. Grady’s is impossibly smooth and rich, without even a tinge of acidity. It’s also fairly concentrated; 1 part Grady’s needs like, 2 parts milk, and a bunch of ice. Oh my god. I wait all week to drink this stuff in bed on a Shabbos morning. I buy a big bottle of it (I usually need to make a special trip to a grocery store slightly nicer than the ones in my neighbourhood) and just ride it out. No more than 2 cups in a day, though. I never considered myself caffeine-dependent until I went to the store for my fix, and they were out. I began to panic – my emotional response was like, pretty real and also embarrassing. We made our own cold brew that weekend – it wasn’t bad!

That special milk-hitting-the-coffee moment of ekstasis (ἔκστασις),

3. Roasted Cauliflower with Green Pea Pesto & Mushrooms

I made this recipe up. I actually feel my cooking has improved lately, especially my veggie dishes. I don’t eat much meat, and I get way more excited about which vegetables and fruits are in season. I recently realized that one of the reasons I don’t buy or cook meat often is that it’s just messier. Animal fat is just harder to clean, and I think scrubbing grease of pots, plates, and containers was actually starting to bother me. Anyway, roasted cauliflower is always delicious. I toss it in some grape seed oil, add some salt and pepper, and sometimes a little curry powder or a pinch of cumin seeds, and roast it until it’s nicely browned. Then I sauteed up some green peas (I actually love frozen peas – I use them in anything, and they are a yum high-fiber addition when I don’t have much fresh produce around). I took about half the sauteed peas and blended them with a handful of basil, some fresh garlic, a few pine nuts, olive oil and salt. Green pea pesto! I don’t think I invented this, but it’s new to my repertoire. With the remaining half of the peas, still in the pan, I added sliced mushrooms until they were cooked through. Then I tossed the cauliflower, peas and mushrooms, and pesto, all together. Added a few more pine nuts, and a little lemon zest. Ta-da!

(Aforementioned recipe is on the top right.)

About The Tin Of Schmaltz in My Fridge: A Rosh Hashana Recap

There’s a tin of schmaltz in my fridge right now. I got it at Fairway last week, the day before I did my Rosh Hashana cooking. I was attempting my grandmother’s carrot tsimmes recipe (ingredients: carrots, honey, sugar – nothing else), which she gave me, over the phone, the night before. “It’s poison,” she said, “But it’s so good.” The schmaltz goes into the kneidel that sits inside the tsimmes. Not your widely known, fluffy chicken soup-style kneidel, but one large and dense dumpling that sits in the center of all the thinly sliced carrots. And when you take a spoonful of the tsimmes, you take a spoonful of the kneidel too. I think a lot of people make their own schmaltz by trimming excess fat from their raw chickens, but when I saw the tin of Empire schmaltz at Fairway, I felt like I HAD to buy it. Instagram opportunity, supporting Fairway’s stocking of slightly obscure Kosher items, etc. It’s also a fun thing to be holding when you run into an old flame-type person, which I did, seconds later. I shouted their name and then shouted “Schmaltz! I have schmaltz!”

Here she is! Carrot tsimmes with it’s schmaltzy kneidle centerpiece.

My kneidel used a finely diced onion, a mixture of cornmeal and all-purpose flour, salt and pepper (I did not use enough, so you should add more than you think you need), and a few tablespoons of schmaltz. Like pastry dough, I blended it with a fork until I had doughy crumbs, and then I added a small splash of cold water to bind it all. I shaped it into something that looked like a large sweet potato, placed it in the center of my cooked tsimmes. (The raw, sliced carrots had sat in some honey and sugar overnight, and then cooked, slowly, in their own liquid.) I covered the pot, and cooked it on a low flame, for about an hour. Amazingly, I now own really good pots – All-Clad – thank you to whoever bought it for us off our wedding registry – and it was just a delight cooking with them. Nothing catches, and things cook well. To be fair, I did burn my hair. I’m not sure when, but at some point, I smelled something weird. It was my hair! I snipped off the singed chunk afterwards. I don’t think you can tell – in fact, my now-shorter front layer, I feel, has kind of a Jessica Rabbit vibe, but it’s probably time for a trim anyway. Must remember to tie my hair up when cooking, though, and for so many reasons.

Dignified + True: Our Fish Head (mentioned later on)

But now there’s a tin, minus 4 tablespoons, of schmaltz in my fridge. What do I do with it? How long does it keep for? In my dreams, I would fry up some onions and potatoes in it, but like, when? If I was the right amount of Sexy Food Person, I would just have it on some toast! You know? I would just put it on everything. There is no room in my life for a fleishig snack such as that. I’ll keep thinking, though!

Full Trad Chicken: Apricots, Prunes, Oregano, Red Wine Vinegar, Lemons.

Anyway, here’s other stuff I made for Rosh Hashana: a fish head! I cooked a fatty salmon head, collar included, in a stock of water, carrots, leeks, thyme, butternut squash peels, and salt and pepper. Should have used a bay leaf, but I forgot. When it was done, and slightly cooled, I ate the collar, warm and fatty, while standing over the stove. I plated the head over sliced carrots. And weirdly, everyone at the table wanted to eat it. I continued in this full trad (FT) vein with my chicken, which I roasted, for a long time, with prunes, dried apricots, lemons, and red wine vinegar. And served that with a salad of greens, beets, fried leeks, and pomegranate seeds. At the core of all this FT food, there may have been some kind of over-compensating going on. I’d been thinking for weeks about Rosh Hashana – who I’d be spending it with, where I’d be spending it, what it would all look like. I don’t know why I got so neurotic about it. I’m glad I called my grandmother though. I never call enough, and I never make any of her recipes. We ended up talking for a little while and it was just like, the nicest conversation. It’s partly my own nonsense and partly that of my family, but there’s always that feeling of not being enough of this, or that. You know what I’m talking about. But we had a nice talk, and I felt really loved, and then I made her recipe, and I sent her a photo of it, and then I fed it to everyone. Why am I getting so sad writing this? It’s a Tuesday but it feels like 4pm on a Thursday. Happy New Year, everyone!

Challah: my no-knead one on the left, my sister-in-law’s classic white on the right.

Baking Bread (When Bread Is A Metaphor)

When I was about 14, I asked my mother to get me a pasta machine for my birthday. I never got a pasta machine, but that there is a little glimpse into my priorities as a teenager. I used to lie on my parents’ bed watching The Naked Chef, and pore over recipe books (strange to remember what a pre-internet hobby looked like) and, of course, cook and cook. I was a pretty good cook for my age, but for some reason, I had a lot of bread-related disasters. I don’t know – maybe I bought bad yeast, or maybe I was doing something dumb – but often, my yeast would not get foamy, or my bread would not rise, and end results were flat and tasted yeasty. It led me to believe bread baking was very hard, and I developed numerous yeast-related anxieties. After one particular incident — I was baking a babka and the yeast did not froth, but I kept going and then, of course, the dough didn’t rise, and for some reason, this did not discourage me, and I shaped the babka for it’s second rising and again, it did not rise, and instead of just throwing it out, (I was not a quitter! I hated swimming lessons and violin lessons but continued with both for YEARS. Still unpacking that in therapy etc.) I baked it and of course, it did not rise in the oven either. I served it to a table of people that night and of course, it was terrible and the whole thing was thrown out – after all those hours spent kneading, waiting and worrying. So after that incident, I stopped making anything with yeast.

Sneak peek of the finished product – my beautiful No-Knead loaf!

 

Years later, my three sisters and my mother bake bread all the time. My oldest sister especially – she bakes these gorgeous loaves of sourdough bread every week. Now, bread is, unfortunately, still recovering from years of demonizing in this country. That and mayonnaise, which will have a more difficult recovery, but nonetheless a recovery that I believe is warranted. Most Americans do not have the wonderful experience of walking into a nice bakery and buying themselves a beautiful loaf of bread. If they want bread, they buy sliced bread at the supermarket. And the bread they buy is full of preservatives, and lacking in nutrition. Bread does not have to be like that! I fondly recall my days in Jerusalem, where once or twice a week, I would walk to one of several local bakeries and purchase a loaf of sourdough, still warm from the oven. Bread! The stuff of life! A gift to mankind. But now I live in New York. For a while, every Friday, I would walk to Benz’s (one of the nicer food stores in Jewish Crown Heights – as opposed to Goyish Crown Heights, which is where I live) and purchase a loaf of maybe my favourite bread of all time – Tani’s bread – a moist and spongy loaf of sourdough. I’d bring it home for Shabbos and eat it slathered with miso-tahini (a real staple dip – originated by my sister). Nothing would go to waste. If there was any leftover, it would be toasted on Sunday or Monday and eaten with eggs or lox or peanut butter, or whatever else was around. Anyway, Tani stopped baking his bread, and a bread-shaped hole quickly appeared in my life. I started buying Zomick’s challah instead – which is yum but obviously, kind of junky and devoid of nutrition. I kept on thinking, I should just bake! I should just bake my own bread! My sisters continued to post their leavened success stories on Instagram, and I kept picturing all my bread disasters. What if I baked bread and it was terrible, and there wasn’t enough time to go buy a back-up loaf of challah for Shabbos? And then we had no bread for Shabbos! What if I bought a back-up loaf AND my bread did work out, but then we had all this extra bread that I’d have to throw out! I felt daunted by every version.

A piece of the bread! Really nice crumb on this.

Anyway, on Thursday, I bit the bullet. I read and re-read that Jim Lahey via Mark Bittman No Knead Bread recipe. My nerves relaxed a little with each revision, until I felt ready. The whole thing suddenly felt really low-risk, and I welcomed those feelings. I made the dough on Thursday evening, and let it rise until late Friday morning. So far, so good! I formed the loaf and let it rise for another few hours. Still good! I heated the pot (in this recipe, you cook the loaf in a lidded pot) and then put the loaf inside. And suddenly, my apartment was filled with the warm smell of fresh bread. It’s strange that out of all cooking smells, baking smells are the cleanest. They don’t linger, although if they did, it would be a beautiful gift. There are no smells like it in the world! It’s up there with coffee and cinnamon. And then, there was a loaf of bread in my kitchen. Beautifully risen, covered in a fun dusting of cornmeal and whole wheat flour, like you see in cool bread photos. We ate it that night with miso-tahini and it reminded me so much of Tani’s perfect sourdough. And then I ate some the next day with avocado (which I now eat). And then the next day with melty, crunchy peanut butter. And then later that day with some eggs. And then my ~~husband~~ ate the rest, toasted with butter, with a bowl of soup that night. And the loaf was gone!

And here’s some of my bread, toasted and topped with melty crunch peanut butter. Served with Grady’s Cold Brew – the best beverage of all time.

That recipe is so easy. No kneading at all. I subbed in a cup of whole wheat flour, to give some colour and nutrition. It just requires some planning, what with the 20 hours of rising. Yes, failures happen, sometimes! But we must remind ourselves not to be discouraged. I myself am very easily discouraged, in almost all aspects of life. We are hard on ourselves and sometimes, nothing feels as bad as spending time and energy on something that just doesn’t work out. Disappointment is debilitating! I’m getting teary now, but we just need to power through that stuff. We just cannot afford to get hung up there. I’m not talking about bread anymore. The bread is a metaphor.

And more of my bread, with some eggs, on Sunday morning.

Let’s Make Gnocchi! (with Crimini, Zucchini & Arugula)

When you have matters  pressing, and a whole to-do list of tasks, such as: writing wedding thank-you cards,  prepping Green Card application documents, and putting away the ever-growing pile of clothes and crap  that live atop my dresser – THAT, my friends, is when it’s time to make an elaborate dinner. You huff away in the kitchen, flour smeared on your face like some flustered child contestant in a cooking show about children cooking, creating a larger mess than necessary, and then finally, when it’s ready, you sit and eat, and then you go about cleaning up. And you get to feel tired and accomplished and very busy, all the while the tasks on aforementioned to-do list remaining.

Okay, anyway, point is: I made gnocchi. I’ve made it a few times before, but a few years go by between each gnocchiventure. I once made gnocchi at a singles’ event! Some person had assembled a group of 6 single men and 6 single ladies and we all cooked together and then ate. At the end of the night, we all had to submit a form, with a ‘yes’ or ‘no’ or ‘maybe’ written next to the name of each of the male attendees. I wrote ‘no’ next to all the names, except the name of the organizer. I wrote a ‘maybe’ next to his name, but I never heard from him. At first I was ‘hahah’ about it and then I was kind of 😦 about it but hey, who cares because I GOT MARRIED ANYWAY, and I also came away with gnocchi intel.

A not-superb photo of my dinner. It probably looks prettier on a plate, and with cheese, and in natural light.

Also, I make the same thing for dinner often (variations of macrowbowls, mostly, and then fancier stuff for my Shabbos dinners), and then on other nights, we order sushi, or we go out, or I have eggs on toast, or my husby cooks, and quite well, I might add, smugly. I rarely have the time or energy to come up with a whole new thing. I left work early last night, stopped by Brooklyn Fare, the most expensive supermarket in the world, although I do have a rewards card there, so for every $300 I spend, I get $10 credit, which gets me a packet of dried mango.

I used this Smitten Kitchen recipe (quelle surprise) as my guide, and ignored all the stuff about soup. Because it’s a carby dish, and because I was skimping on protein for the evening, I thought I might as well load it with veggies. I chose Crimini mushrooms and zucchini, and bought a beautiful box of wild arugula to toss through the whole thing.

I chose 3 largish Yukon Gold potatoes for my gnocchi. They were actually so delicious and sweet, just on their own. The most important thing is, you want to boil them with the skin on, and drain them ASAP, because you want to avoid excess water. The dryer, the better. I don’t have a potato ricer, so after I let them cool (I boiled and drained them, went  for a “run”, and continued upon my return), I just mashed them to the best of my ability with a fork. Mash, mash, mash. I then added a teaspoon of salt (I know, it seems like a lot), and an egg. Keep mixing until very smooth. And then, half a cup of flour. Mix, mix. Another half cup flour; keep mixing and you’ll see a dough forming. Add a little more – you want a dough that is very soft and kind of delicate to touch, but one that won’t stick to your hands, and can be kneaded – which you’ll then do, on a floured surface, for just a minute. Divide the dough into 4 pieces and roll each piece into a long rope. Cut it up to whatever size you want, and do that thing with the back of a fork where you get some ridges on your gnocchi. Then place them all on some parchment paper and put a pot of salted water on to boil.

While waiting for the water, I cooked up my veggies. I got some grapeseed oil nice and hot in a non-stick pan and tossed the mushrooms around, with a dash of salt and pepper, for a few minutes, and then transferred them to a bowl. Then I added my zucchini to some more hot oil, and cooked them until they were just done, adding a few rosemary bits and some tarragon leaves I had in the freezer. I added them to the mushrooms in the bowl. By then, the water was boiling, and I threw in about a 3rd of the gnocchi. Let them cook for about 2 or 3 minutes – when they rise to the top, they are ready! Remove them with a slotted spoon. I heated some olive oil, and I can’t believe this, but some butter also, in the pan I’d been using for the veggies, and I tossed the gnocchi in there, until a little golden, and THEN added it to the bowl with the mushrooms and zucchini. I gave it all a toss, and adjusted seasonings, and then tossed it with the arugula. I bowled them up, and added some grated asiago (on his) and an olive oil drizzle. It was all very impressive. We ate it on the couch and watched Breaking Bad, which is a show I have only just discovered. You can use potato flour instead of regular flour, if you want. If you wanted to add some protein, you could maybe throw a fried egg on top, or have it with some  fish. Or, come cooler months, you could skip the butter and eat the gnocchi with a delicious bolognese or something. I cannot fathom a heavy, hot, meat dish on a summer’s day such the one I find myself in today. Anyway, I only cooked about half the gnocchi I made. I froze the other half, raw and on the parchment paper. After it’s frozen, you can just throw them all in a bag together and not worry about it sticking. I can’t think of anything that makes me more wifed up than having a supply of homemade gnocchi in the freezer.

QUESTIONS????????

It Happened To Me: I Now Eat Every Vegetable

Congratulations! I now, very suddenly, like avocado. I have always loved every vegetable in the whole world, except avocado. I don’t know! The smeared green-turning-to-brown, the mushy cubes making a mess in a salad,  a half-cut avo going brown and crusty in my parents’ fridge, remnants of it dried around some dumb baby’s mouth – I just couldn’t. People would go on and on about what a delight it was – oh, they could just eat with a spoon! Oh, all they need is some salt and pepper! Maybe a lemon squeeze! Lordy. Anyway, I ate it inside some sushi, and then eventually I tried some truly delicious (fresh, cilantro heavy, lime anointed, etc.) guac with chips and salsa, and then I had it on some toast with poached eggs, and now, I have graduated to actually buying my own avocado, and putting it on my toast, or ordering it inside my lox bagel (I don’t like cream cheese.) I used to go to Peacefood and order that Avocado Tempeh Ruben sans avocado. But no more! It feels very sudden, but I suppose it was gradual. I feel truly like a woman in her 30s. Spread the news; Esther Werdiger now loves every vegetable in the world, for real.

The first avocado I ever purchased, with the sole intention of eating it myself, featured here in the breakfast I ate alone this past Sunday.

A Girl And Her Gravlax

My mother makes gravlax once or twice a year, generally for a Jewish holiday. It sits in the fridge for a few days, wrapped up, covered in salt, sugar, and pepper, a powdery mixture that slowly breaks down until it’s in a liquid state. She rinses it off, and uses a Japanese ceramic knife to slice it thinly. She makes caramel-coloured, mustardy dill sauce to go with it. Eating it on some challah, with the sauce, and some greens or beets, is nothing short of amazing, for those with an inclination for sweet, salty, fatty salmon. My mother is a great cook, but I wouldn’t call her a chef. She always fed us well; seasonally, colourfully, healthfully. Meals were balanced and fresh. Repertoires were established so that, if my mother was busy (and she was often busy), really any of us could step in and get dinner, or Shabbos, on the table. I have my own limits, but safe to say that the kids in my family, especially the 4 girls, are great cooks. The similarities in our cooking – veggie-heavy, whole grains, colour – each in our own ways, clearly all come from my mother.

My sister slicing gravlax at home.

Anyway, my sister started calling herself a chef a number of years ago. “You’re not a chef!” I would say, “because you haven’t been to cooking school!” – which made sense to me – you finish culinary school, you’re a chef! – but was probably not a nice thing to say, and I knew she hated hearing it. Anyway, at some point during her years cooking, running a supper club, writing about food, and finally, opening a restaurant, our resistance to the title faded away. When I tell people about my sisters, I say, “one is a physicist, one is a physio, and one is a chef!” and I’m always so proud to say it.

One of the open-faced bagels featuring gravlax at my sister’s restaurant.

At her restaurant, my sister uses our mother’s gravlax recipe. I think my mother originally got the recipe from her friend Barbara, who got it from a friend of hers. I’ve never made it, but I’ve watched it be made, sliced, and I’ve obviously eaten it so many times. I wait for the extra fishy/salty/sweet/chewy bits from the ends, like some kind of grateful dog-person, just happy to be included. I have not yet found a reason to buy my very own entire side of salmon to cure, but maybe one day.

A Salmon Patty for 2014

Most people ate salmon patties (alternate names: fish cakes, croquettes – semantics) growing up. My mother’s version was actually tuna patties; she didn’t make them often but y’know,I didn’t really like them anyway. Truth is, back then, I was also more or less addicted to ketchup, and everything I ate was smothered in the stuff. So I’m not sure I was tasting much of anything, in general. I think I rediscovered patties last year. It’s an easy and pretty cheap dinner, all the ingredients can be found at really any supermarket (as opposed to a fancy supermarket or kosher store – neither of which I have in my immediate surrounds) – in fact, you probably have most of the ingredients in your pantry right now. It’s also an easy protein, and actually, I think, a really fun thing to make for Shabbos. Pair ’em with a delicious dippy sauce (dijon, dill, mayo, lemon, a lil pinch of instant coffee – don’t poo-poo until you’ve tried it), and a big green salad – you’ve got yourself a pretty nice lunch, mister.

It’s one of those foods that will be as bland or as exciting as you make it. Go to town with the flavours – I love lemon, zest, tarragon, mustard – just classic fish pairings, really. Could be nostalgia, or something like that, but when I serve these, people are kind of excited? And they last for a few days in the fridge – leftovers are great for work, or for a fun little late night sandwich??????? Salmon burger????????? Some toasted challah, mustard and mayo, a beet slice or two? I wouldn’t kick it out of bed.

Our raw patties, pre-mixing.

I don’t use a recipe. But I do have some nice pictures! One can of salmon yields about 8 patties. Fork the can contents before adding the other stuff. Do not be discouraged by how, well, potentially horrifying the contents look. It’s the TMI of the canned food world! Bones, skin… TMI, salmon! But it all dissolves! Anyway, you want to add something to bind it all. I normally use panko (probably about 3/4 of a cup), but you can use breadcrumbs, maybe saltines, or a mashed potato. I use 2 eggs to really close the whole binding situation. Then: a nice tablespoon of dijon mustard. Juice and zest of a juicy lemon. Whatever herbs you like; tarragon, dill, basil, parsley, cilantro, whatever. A few scallions, finely sliced, or some onion, diced very, very finely. A clove of garlic or two, minced or chopped very finely. A slug of olive oil. A cool amount of salt and black pepper. Also! You can actually taste the mixture before cooking it, to check if you’ve season it right.

Our raw patties, post-shaping and pre-cooking.

Cooking! You want a nonstick pan, and an oil that’s good for high heat, and also neutral, like grapeseed, or canola. I used olive oil because I forgot to buy grapeseed, even though I went to 2 supermarkets today, and hey, it was fine. Keep the fire on medium – you want to let these guys cook through before the outside starts to burn. Oh – and after I shape the patties (think small palm size), I dust them in some more panko. Let them cook for a few minutes, then flip and cook the other side.

A word about dealing with fishy cooking smells. Close the other doors in hour house. My kitchen is next to my bedroom, and I don’t have a fan over the stove. Shut the bedroom door, make sure both bedroom and kitchen windows are open, wash the pan as soon as you’ve finished, and burn a candle or something in the bedroom. Good luck!

I will be serving the patties with a dippy sauce, and a big salad of arugula, jicama, blackened corn (straight on the stove burners!), avocado, crunchy celery, and a very lime-y dressing. Bye!

Our patties!

Annals of Breakfast: DIY Muesli

Muesli! Granola! I’m not sure if the difference is purely semantic or not. In Australia, they call it muesli, and here it’s called granola. Muesli is… European? Healthier? I don’t know. Also, it does not matter. I will henceforth use the terms interchangeably. I used to make a big batch of granola every few weeks, and I’d store it in a big container in the fridge or freezer, because anything that makes my milk colder is a +++ (Pro tip: I put frozen blueberries in my cereal. I like blueberries but it also makes the milk extra cold.)

I barely make museli anymore, mostly because my schedule is such that I rarely have time for breakfast. Breakfast is a large amount of sub-par coffee, purchased roughly a block away from Penn Station, and nursed at my stupid desk. Perhaps some almonds from my desk, or some other desk snack (what are YOUR desk snacks? Tell us in the comments below! I like Trader Joe’s dried mango.) And on Therapy Wednesdays, sometimes a scone. But I miss breakfast, and muesli was something I really felt I’d truly perfected. What a waste.

My recipe is super easy and really easy to customize. The basic principle is that it should be healthy, simple, tasty, and have clusters. Clusters! Chew and crunch is very important. You want oats, something to give it a bit of sweet (apple juice, honey, maple syrup, or agave), whatever dried fruit you like (I stick to raisins and apricots) and whatever nuts or seeds you like (I generally stick with almonds, but may also add some coconut and sesame seeds) and maybe some other stuff (I used a lot of cinnamon and sometimes cardamom). Here’s the main bit: YOU WET THE OATS. I put them in a big mixing bowl, and I pour a BUNCH of boiling water over them. You want enough that all the oats are wet (they are pretty absorbent), but not too much that you have excess water. Pour a little, and then reassess, I saw. After the water, I add the cinnamon (I find, personally, that you need to use quite a bit to taste it at all, which is odd, because, in the words of my mother, “cinnamon is a BULLY.” Why so angry about it, Mum???) And then, I add the honey, or whatever sweet thing you’re using. If you’re using apple juice, use less boiling water. You don’t need a lot – the dried fruit is pretty sweet, and I think this sort of recipe is for people who don’t love things to be crazy sweet? Unclear.

Next, you want to toast your muesli. If you’re using raw almonds, add them here. Pistachios are fun too (particularly nice if you’re using maple syrup and cardamom). Pre-toasted almonds can be chopped and thrown in after the cooking. If you’re using sesame seeds, add them here too. Fattier nuts like pecans should be used raw – they will burn way too quickly if you’re cooking them with the oats. This is how the clusters happen; you are very slowly toasting the wet oats, and as the water evaporates, the oats kinda stick together. That’s the whole thing. Keep the oven low, and check to see that it’s not burning at the edges. Move it all around with a wooden spoon so that it toasts evenly. But this whole part might take an hour, possibly more. You want to just keep it low and be patient.

When you’re done, let it all cool on the baking tray. To get an idea of how much fruit and nuts to add, I put the chopped nuts and fruits (Pro tip: use scissors to cut the dried apricots. Sounds dumb, I know.) on top of the cooling oats. It just helps you eyeball your fruit/nuts/oats ratio. Mix it all up with your hands, and then put it in a container. I like to throw some raw oats in too – it kind of looks cool (Light brown! Dark brown!) and adds fun texture. It also bulks it up and makes it go much further, with no extra work.  And keep it in the fridge or freezer. It’ll keep for longer AND MAKE YOUR MILK COLDER, like I mentioned a thousand times at the beginning.

Kosher/Kosher Adjacent: A Wonderful Day of NYC Food

I need to tell you about my yesterday. My real wedding is in a few weeks, but yesterday, we went and got civilly wed at City Hall. I have been dreaming of eloping for years now, but alas, with a family the size of mine, and who are very serious about weddings, that was not an option.  But a fun City Hall day really allowed me to fulfill that fantasy. I recommend it.

Anyway, and have you heard? Russ & Daughters opened a restaurant last week. As soon as I heard, I thought, if I could have lunch there after the ceremony, it would just be the best day. The best day! I’d read the menu already – some websites posted it last week, along with photos of the gorgeous interior. I’d seen photos of some of the details (wallpaper in the toilet featuring a sesame seed motif!) on Instagram. I really was very excited.

Okay, now, just to reiterate. Russ & Daughters is not technically Kosher. For our purposes, I am calling it Kosher-adjacent. I’ll eat bagels and lox anywhere. I’m sorry! I hope I’m not pulling at the very fabric of this blog. Anyway; onwards! We all know that R & D is amazing. It’s not cheap, but I’m always guaranteed a wonderful experience. And the place is staffed by people who truly believe in R & D – it’s really pretty impressive. So the cafe! Big news. After the ceremony, we cabbed down there and – hooray! – got a table. I already knew exactly what was going to eat; sunny side up eggs, lox, and latkes. I mean, it’s my wedding day. Official life partner got the same thing. The others had bagels, egg creams (!) and coffee. Yesterday was also the day I finally understood egg creams. It’s mainly a creamy milkshake, and just a splash of seltzer gives it a slight effervescence. I never got that before. I thought of it as like, a fizzy milk drink. You know? But it’s not! And we shared the cookie plate and halva ice cream for dessert. They also played Hava Nagilla for us, and Jen, R & D’s ever-warm PR champ extraordinaire, came over with some drinks. “I can’t wait to tell my grandchildren about this!” I said. It’s true! Making memories, guys.

That night, I ate Pardes leftovers from my fridge. Have we written about Pardes here yet? I feel like no, but why? Because Pardes is honestly the best Actually Kosher restaurant in New York. And I can say that with never having eaten in probably half of the Kosher restaurants in this farshtunkene shtot. Chef Moses Wendel is one of the best things that Jews, as a people, have going for them. His playful high/low, colourful, ever-changing menu items are always surprising, delicious, and on trend. Not many Kosher restaurants can say that. The small plates thing can be misleading – I always get full far sooner than expected. I was full (on a magical kale salad, a taste of the pea soup, a glass of pinot grigio, and a few of those insaaane french fries, doused in truffle mayonnaise and red wine ketchup) before my BLT came, and I ended up taking it home. The B is the most deliciously fatty smoked beef belly and the star of the sandwich. Add yummy greens, tangy roasted tomatoes, crazy umami mayo (not what it’s actually called) and thin, toasty, crusty rye (I think). Oh my god! I ate it, basically cold, in front of the TV (Yankees-Mets game: Who. am. I???), armed with nothing but a paper towel in case of drips. And oh, there were drips. I’m married. Goodbye.

Let’s Talk About… Veggie Sausage

I grew up in a pretty fat-phobic environment (although, who didn’t? It was the 90s, era of fat-free EVERYTHING) and people loved to trash talk sausages. I’d have a hotdog once or twice a year (Lag Ba’omer, usually; the Jewish holiday of bonfires!) but it was always accompanied by tsk-tsking, initially from adults and eventually FROM WITHIN (thanks, guys). Eventually, I got over it, and eventually, better Kosher sausages appeared on the market.

But also, what’s even bad about sausages? Nitrates, mostly, to be honest. All those rumours you’d hear about sausages containing the most unmentionable animal parts never deterred me, a girl who truly enjoys the crunch of gristle or chewing on a roasted chicken neck. Plus, who cares? And yes, a juicy sausage is going to have a high fat content but like, a sausage is also not big, and you’re eating it – what, 3 times a year? And when the Kosher butcher stores in Melbourne started making better sausages, they were exactly that; better. I can’t talk about it any more because I’m getting hungry. And now I’m thinking about the hotdogs at baseball games.

Truth is, this whole preamble is irrelevant because what I’m about to talk about is… veggie sausage, not actual sausage. Like I mention in every blessed post, my kitchen is dairy. But beyond that, Kosher meat isn’t available everywhere. So if I’m ducking into a supermarket to pick up some groceries, it’s handy to just by some veggie meat, which is widely available. Here’s what I love about all sausage though; it’s like, substantial, and can be pretty wholesome, but will always have that kind of junky undertone. You know?

If I’m having a basic vegetable-based dinner, throwing in some sausage is a real treat. Livens up the whole thing! Adds flavour, chew, color, protein – I guess. Anyway, I just wanted to write a few fun ideas for veggie sausage. I like the Tofurky Italian one. It’s meaty and spicy, and comes in a pack of 4 that will last for a while (I don’t want to know why). I can use 2 in a soup, then one a week later with some lunch, and not have to worry about poisoning myself.

1. Soup! One of my favourite soups this winter was a thick, flavourful, tomato-based soup, full of sliced cabbage, onion, bay leaf and oregano and white beans. It tasted like a soup version of stuffed cabbage, almost (in a good way; I love stuffed cabbage). At the very end, I’d throw in sliced sausage, browned in a separate pan (usually in a bit of grapeseed oil). I also did a similar soup that had a clear vegetable broth base, kale, and also white beans. Sausage worked nicely in that too.

2. Fancy breakfast! On the rare days I am home during the day, making myself a fancy breakfast is very exciting. Some eggs, some greens, maybe some toast – adding some sausage to that is so delicious. Add to that the primal feelings of transgression – growing up in a Kosher house, no breakfast or brunch every contained any kind of meat. Eggs and sausages are a combination as goyish as college football. Having your own little Kosher version of that is truly a delight.

3. Salad! Any kind of salad – whether it’s grain-based, leafy – especially dark greens, or whatever, get such a kick from some browned rounds of sausage. In the same way you’d throw in some little polenta croutons to jazz up a salad, or throw together a special salad dressing to give it an extra something, sausage does the same thing.

Hooray for veggie sausage!

Here is a terrible photo of a fancy breakfast I ate this week for dinner. Don’t ever say I don’t spoil you.