Spinach, Cheddar, and Millet Egg Casserole

What to feed a crowd. This challenge is two-fold in my case: beyond the task of finding a recipe to please all palates, I must fight my fondness for creating fussy dishes—handheld pastries, ravioli, poached eggs on toast. This tendency doesn't translate so well to satisfying a large dinner party, where individually plating each dish means I'd never leave the kitchen to join the dinner myself. Such was my dilemma last week, when I cooked a meal for a table of five. In addition, one of our party did not eat gluten, which nixed the options of big-pot pasta or pizza (I've yet to find solid gluten-free alternatives for these recipes). So I landed on quiche, which I find both delicious and delicate, with its silky yet fork-sturdy filling and crunch of crust. The crust, of course, made for a gluten component that I would need to avoid. A brief bout of research revealed a not-quite quiche:  a millet and spinach egg bake. Funny enough, the recipe made two pretty, ramekin-sized portions—just the sort of dainty dish I meant to avoid. No matter, however: the recipe's simplicity made it easy to supersize. 

Gluten-Free Sweet Potato Gnocchi

I invited myself over to someone else's house for dinner the other day. I offered to make the dinner, so hopefully I didn't totally put the hostess out. But I'm still aware that I committed a slight indiscretion, in asking to take over someone's kitchen, shuffle their pots and pans around, and then spend ten minutes photographing the food before we could eat.

But I like to think that inviting oneself over is okay if you're bringing gnocchi. Having received this gluten-free gnocchi recipe from a trusted coworker (her own food blog, In Fine Fettle, is forthcoming), I had an inkling it would be delicious. And so it was: warm pillows of sweet potato, crust crisped by olive oil, and hit with a double dose of basil—some in the gnocchi itself, some in the pesto dolloped on top. The dish is pretty, soul-warming, and, I think, welcome regardless of who invited whom to the table.

Brussels Sprout and Fennel Tart with Goat Cheese

This holiday break, my hostility toward fennel finally broke down. Previously, its similarity in flavor to anise seed left me pushing it aside in salads, ignoring fennel-focused recipes, and generally frowning when it appeared on menus. Then my sister took me to The Eagle in Over the Rhine, a Cincinnati neighborhood that really embodies the term 'happening.' The evening's highlight must be bestowed upon their spoon bread (A thick skillet pancake which appears to have maple syrup baked right in, delivering with each splendid forkful a sort of Goldilocks experience—not too sweet, not too dry, but Just Right). But we also ordered a salad of shaved fennel, arugula, and parmesan, and the fennel was just delicious: crisp, refreshing, and finely dressed with an acidic dressing. Perhaps, I thought between mouthfuls, there's something to my mother's affinity for the veggie.

With this experience fresh in my mind, I agreed to include fennel in a savory tart I was making for said mother's birthday dinner. It's showcased rather differently here: instead of being prepared raw, the fennel is sliced, coated in an herb-mustard dressing, and slow-roasted among mounds of earthy Brussels Sprouts. Turns out it was quite delicious this way too, layered over a landscape of creamy goat cheese, all snugged in a crisp pastry crust. I'm glad to know I needn't skirt the ingredient in the future. Although I'm even more glad to know that spoon bread exists. 

Spinach-Ricotta Stuffed Shells

I'm pleased to have found another way of packaging the winningest combination of spinach and ricotta. You'll frequently find the two hand in hand, and for good reason. The silky, bright green veggie, gently sautéed in garlic and folded into velvety ricotta, is worthy of consumption spoonful by spoonful. Generally I do take the extra step to create some sort of dish, however. That way there's some sort of structure to provide an occasion for eating the filling. Calzone is my go-to vessel, but toasted phyllo cups have also found themselves shouldering a ladle of the mixture. I'm even imagining splotches of ricotta tossed onto a spinach-dredged pizza crust—perhaps that'll show up on the blog in a little while. For now, these shells put the flavors on my plate, neatly bundled and cloaked in tomato sauce.

Which leads to one of the reasons I so like this recipe. It's a no-nonsense, hearty, oven dish, not unlike lasagna in terms of ingredients. But by using shells instead of pasta sheets, one gets a nifty, well portioned bite. Serving is a cinch, eating more fork-friendly. This version is particularly low-maintenance, as it calls for jarred marinara sauce. Homemade tomato sauce (that is, a sauce of well-developed flavors and substantial texture) remains on my as-yet-a-mystery list. But if you can substitute homemade (or a cream sauce, if you like), please do.

Spinach-Ricotta Stuffed Shells

Ingredients:

1 TBSP olive oil

1/2 lb. spinach, chopped

2 cloves garlic

1/2 lb. ricotta

1/2 cup shredded pepper jack cheese

salt and pepper

1 15. oz jar marinara sauce

14 large pasta shells

parmesan, if desired.

Directions:

--Heat olive oil in a medium pan. Add spinach and garlic and cook until spinach is fully wilted, five minutes or so. Let cool.

--Mix spinach mixture together with ricotta and cheese. Add salt and pepper to taste.

--Heat oven to 500 degrees. Pour 1 cup of the sauce into a 8x8x8 or 9x9x9-inch baking pan, spreading evenly across the bottom.

--Cook pasta according to directions. Drain and let cool just until you can handle the shells without burning your fingers. Fill each shell with 1/3 cup filling and nestle in the pan next to each other.  Pour the rest of the sauce on top of and around the shells. If desired, sprinkle with parmesan. Bake for 12 to 15 minutes, or until sauce is bubbling.

Spaghetti with White Wine-Lemon Sauce

I like to think I've finally arrived at the stage where I can divide wine into definable categories of good and ill-tasting. No doubt I'm still in the exploration stage, but I am developing a sense for which varieties of grape I like—which was why it was to my unfortunate surprise when I opened a bottle of viognier and found it essentially undrinkable. I attribute this primarily to a decision to go for economy over quality; I'd bought an overly affordable bottle, reckoning it'd go down well enough. It did not. A few sips in, it became clear that this wine ought not to be imbibed by any decent person, leaving me with a sizable amount of unpleasant, but otherwise perfectly sound wine. 

I couldn't get myself to pour it down the drain, of course, so I decided to repurpose the viognier. There exists a wine cake recipe which I adore, but being well stocked with dessert at the moment, I thought I'd incorporate the wine into dinner. The solution was provided by this lemony butter and white wine sauce, which is quite tart and quite delightful. It also comes together alarmingly fast. Throw some pantry ingredients in a pot, keep an eye on it for a few minutes, and you've got a velvety, light, springy sauce. I modified the original recipe by adding some greens and can imagine mushrooms or roasted peppers also pairing well.

Adapted from Spoon University's White Wine Lemon Butter Pasta Sauce

Spaghetti with White Wine-Lemon Sauce

Ingredients:
3 TBSP butter, divided
3 cloves garlic, minced
1 TBSP chopped rosemary
1 1/2 TBSP flour
1/2 cup white wine
1/4 lb. frozen spinach, thawed (or about 3 large handfuls fresh spinach)
juice and zest from one lemon
1/2 lb. spaghetti, cooked per directions

Directions:
--Melt 2 TBSP butter in a medium saucepan. Add garlic and rosemary and cook two minutes. Add flour, whisking constantly until smooth. Pour wine in slowly; cook on low heat until sauce has thickened.
--Add remaining 1 TBSP butter. Once it has melted, add spinach and lemon and cook until the greens are fully wilted and warmed through.
--Lower heat and pour cooked pasta on top of the sauce. Stir until pasta is evenly coated with the sauce. Remove pan from heat and serve immediately.

No Yeast Whole Wheat Pizza with Mustard Greens

A friend of mine, who has the enviable knack of identifying recipes that build deliciousness from a few simple steps, introduced me to this no yeast pizza dough. She invited me for dinner and, as I sat with a glass of wine, made the pizza from scratch, completing the whole process from craggy dough to cheese-covered perfection in under an hour. I admit I was a little hesitant to embrace this recipe, for no other reason than for the fact that I am so very fond of yeast doughs. I believe it's the combination of the sour-tangy taste and the perseverance required that creates this strong affinity. But with a couple mouthfuls, I discovered what is currently my favorite dinner: a recipe so well rounded and satisfying, no amount of yeast could improve it.

It bears pointing out that this crust is made entirely with whole wheat flour. Usually whole wheat needs either an immense amount of kneading or some regular flour to temper its flavor and texture. Not so in this case; a few minutes' kneading creates a deeply addictive flavor that lends itself to any topping. Its lift comes from baking powder alone. The crust is slightly sweet, very dense, and chewy—precisely the sort of base you want for a hearty heap of veggies. As suggested below, I like to add sautéed greens. Tomato sauce and cheese, or any assortment of vegetables, will work just as well. But often, I'll reach into the fridge for a piece of bare crust.

No Yeast Whole Wheat Pizza with Mustard Greens

Ingredients for dough:

2 1/2 cups flour

2 3/4 tsp. baking powder

1 tsp. salt

1 TBSP olive oil

3/4-1 cup water

Topping ingredients:

1 TBSP olive oil

2 cloves garlic, sliced

1 bunch mustard greens, washed and chopped 

1 tomato, diced

salt and pepper
1/2 cup shredded cheese (I used havarti) (Leave off to make vegan)

Directions:

--Mix together dry ingredients. Add oil and 3/4 cup water all at once, and stir until a cohesive dough begins to form. Begin kneading with hands, adding more water if too dry. Continue kneading for five minutes, or until dough is soft. Let dough rest while you prepare the topping.

--Heat oil in a medium sized pan. Add garlic, and cook one minute. Add greens all at once, and cook, stirring occasionally, until they are completely wilted and easy to chew, about 10 minutes. Add tomato and cook another minute. Season with salt and pepper to taste. 

--Preheat oven to 400 degrees F. Pat pizza crust onto a cookie sheet, using fingers to press dough into a 1/2-inch thick layer. Spread greens evenly across crust. Top with cheese.

--Bake for 15-25 mins, or until cheese has melted and crust is deep brown and feels hollow when tapped. Let sit for five minutes before slicing.

Potato-Roasted Garlic Knish

Knish has found its way into fables, acted as a peace offering and, more generally, provided a good-natured addition to the dictionary. Yet for many years, despite knowing of its wide-ranging qualities, I'd never actually tasted one. All this is to say, I've had a hankering to give the recipe a try for some time, both for the sake of tasting a knish, and also due to the appeal of wrapping a vegetable in pastry dough. These dreams were finally realized this past week, to much success and, delightfully, without snag or slip-up.

Perhaps it's not surprising I hadn't had knish until I made them myself—they don't show up too often on the menu, being what is essentially a ball of mashed potatoes wrapped in a rich, flaky dough. Knish are Jewish in origin, and when I brought a half-dozen to a family dinner, the reactions they received were akin to greetings toward an old, somewhat forgotten friend. One of the most pleasing moments was provided by the great-grandchild, a darling of discriminating palate: when asked whether they tasted good, she promptly announced, 'Yeah.'

The recipe requires minor preparations, mostly to accommodate its schedule, not any finicky steps. The potatoes boil cheerily while the onions caramelize, asking for a few minutes of welcome time by the warm stove. The dough wants for some chilling time: I made it the previous night, removing the wodge of pastry from the fridge while I prepped the filling. It rolled out and wrapped up the log of potatoes willingly and without hassle. I added some roasted garlic to the potatoes and caramelized onions, barely incorporating the cloves into the mash to create pops of that mellow creaminess I love.

 

Adapted from Smitten Kitchen's Potato KnishPotato-Roasted Garlic KnishIngredients for dough:
2 cups unbleached, all-purpose flour
1/2 cup whole wheat flour
1 tsp. baking powder
1/2 tsp. salt
1 egg
1/2 cup vegetable oil
1 TBSP vinegar (I used apple cider)
1/2 cup waterIngredients for filling:
3 russet potatoes, peeled and quartered
1 medium yellow onion, diced
1 TBSP vegetable oil
5 cloves roasted garlic (to roast, cook unpeeled cloves in a 400 degree F oven for 40 minutes or until very soft and deep brown)
salt and pepper to taste
Directions:--Make dough. Mix together flours, soda and salt. In a measuring cup or small bowl, combine egg, oil, vinegar and water. Add wet mixture to dry, and stir until a dough begins to form. Knead with your hands until dough is smooth and forms one cohesive mass. Refrigerate two hours or overnight.--Prepare filling. If dough was refrigerated overnight, remove to let come to room temperature while you make the filling. Add potatoes to a pot of cold water. Bring to a boil and reduce to a simmer. Cook until potatoes are fork-tender, about 20 minutes. Drain and let sit until the onions have cooked. --In a medium saucepan, heat oil on medium heat. Add onions and cook for half an hour, stirring occasionally, until onions are browned. Remove from heat and add potatoes and garlic. Mash to an even consistency. Add salt and pepper to taste.--Preheat oven to 375 degrees F. Divide dough into two pieces. Roll out one into a rectangle, approximately 6 by 12 inches. Spoon half of the potato filling in an even row down the long end of the dough. Roll up the dough and pat into an even log shape. Pinch the ends together to enclose filling.  Gently squeeze the log at three even intervals to create four sections, taking care not to tear the dough. Separate the sections by pinching dough apart. Carefully fold, stretch or pinch the dough over the newly-cut ends, so that the potato filling is completely covered by the pastry. Repeat with the second half of the dough and the rest of the filling.--Place knish cut side down on an ungreased baking sheet; they won't spread, but you don't want them to touch. Bake for 40-45 minutes, until tops are golden brown. Let cool a few minutes before eating. I had mine with mustard, but ketchup, cheese—any topping you might put on a baked potato, really, would be very good.

Cumin-Roasted Tofu Tacos

When my family had taco night, we always had tofu tacos. In fact, it was several years before someone introduced to me the notion of the refried bean as the go-to vegetarian taco filling. At home, we  mounded sautéed, seasoned tofu crumbles onto corn shells, filling them to the top with rough-chopped tomatoes and guacamole. (Others added lettuce, but it was never really my thing as a kid). I'd crunch through it all and watch spicy droplets of oil ooze along the valley of the taco shell to pool onto the plate. They were delicious.

This tofu diverges from that of my childhood meals, but it still provides a very apt taco filling. Its toothy bite and warm spice compliments the hearty corn, bright tomato, and silky cheese that tacos evoke. This tofu is cubed, not crumbled, and it bakes up long enough to form dense, crisp squares. Cumin and garlic are two favorite flavors, adding both mellowness and depth. Once baked, the tofu could go in a number of directions—noodles, salads, stir-fries. But I chose the taco route, adding to the tofu a trifecta of fresh tomatoes, guacamole, and a light cheese (I used queso fresco), all ensconced in a soft, warm corn tortilla. I also roasted summer squash for an additional crunchy component. And the leftover tofu, I unashamedly spooned up straight from the tupperware.

Fettucine with Kale Pesto, Artichokes, Sun-Dried Tomatoes, Mushrooms

This is the spoon that launched a feast. A feast—and feat—of six and a half dishes, consumed by five dinner party-ers, across a stretch of five hours. I think The Phantom Tollbooth's Mathemagician would approve. But in any case, the verdant dregs you seen on this spoon are a key component to the main meal: a dish of fettucine, enveloped in kale pesto and incorporated with a melange of artichokes, sun-dried tomatoes, and sauteéd mushrooms. And the spoon itself? A gift from one friend and neighbor to another. A gift inviting the creation of something warm and delicious, which coaxes us away from our work and worries to gather us around one table.
In writing this, it has occurred to me that spoons factor quite significantly in a number of life's more important dishes. My mother's roughly-forged bread spoon has cast its spell on many a dough. Macaroni and Cheese is, I contend, most appropriately eaten with a spoon. Even milkshakes I prefer spooning up to slurping up—although there is a time and place for slurping. I even recently attended a student art show that showcased an entire exhibit celebrating a student's obsession with spoons, manifested through a cupboard of whittled utensils. I certainly have an appreciation for, if not an obsession with, the spoon. And in this recipe; you get to use spoons twice: first to shuffle the mushrooms through their vinegar and oil mixture, and a second time to mix together pesto and pasta.

Sweet Potato & Green Apple Curry

 

This week was the week of the sweet potato. I arrived home from work a few days ago to a marvelous, sweet aroma. Cookies perhaps? Not quite—it turned out to be baked sweet potato fries, coated with cinnamon that sunk into the potatoes and the kitchen air alike. I turn around, and my other housemate is breaking in her new slow cooker with a sweet potato stew, lazily cooking in its corner of the counter-top. Well, I caught the bug, and bought a couple myself. What emerged was this curry, which lasted a delightfully long time. The leftovers stretched out over a snowy week to provide several comforting dinners. Alas, it is all gone now, while the chill obstinately lingers. Then again, I suppose one of the pleasures of winter is sinking one's teeth into a spicy, flavourful spoonful of warmth.

As with many of this blog's recipes, this dish doesn't take much effort. It's a one-pot stew, really, and while you need to keep your eye on the pot's contents, it won't require constant stirring or a deft hand. Haphazard chunks of sweet potato lead the way, beginning with a roast in the oven to soften up. Then they join a handful of chopped, bright green apples to bubble away in the garlicky, spiced broth until everything is steeped in the deep curry. After a good simmer, ladle a generous dollop of curry onto some rice. You can also use bread to mop up the sauce. Elise Bauer of Simply Recipes, where I found the inspiration for this dish, suggests eating the curry with roti bread, pita, or a tortilla.

Adapted from Simply Recipes' Green Apple Curry
Sweet Potato & Green Apple Curry
Ingredients:
1 medium sweet potato
1 TBSP olive oil
2 tsp. curry powder
1/2 tsp. coriander
1 tsp. cumin
1 TBSP water
2 garlic cloves
2 granny smith apples, peel on
1/2 tsp. salt
3/4 cup water
1 TBSP brown sugar

cooked rice to accompany, if desired.

Directions
--Heat oven to 425 degrees F. Peel the sweet potato and cut into large chunks. Roast on a nonstick or lightly greased pan for 20 minutes, or until potatoes have begun to soften, but aren't fully cooked through.
--While potatoes are roasting, mix together the curry powder, coriander, cumin, and 1 TBSP water until a paste forms. Peel and slice garlic and cut apples into chunks.
--Heat oil on medium heat in a medium saucepan. Add garlic to hot oil and cook for two minutes. Stir in curry paste and cook for another 2 minutes. Stir in the rest of the ingredients.
--Add potatoes once they are out of the oven. Bring mixture to a boil and then reduce to a simmer. Cook at a simmer for 30 minutes or until sweet potatoes are very soft and curry has thickened. Serve with rice, if desired. Makes approximately 2 1/2 cups curry.

Garlic-Rosemary Foccacia and Apple Salad with Hazelnut-Crusted Goat Cheese

Right about this time of year, I start to really miss the bygone Harvest Party. Every fall, around the October moon, my family's group of Michigan friends would organize the party. It was a potluck, always held at the same household, a lovely futon-filled house with a sloping backyard we scattered with toothy carved pumpkins. We kids would play in the backyard while parents (I only now assume) drank wine and didn't pay attention to us.  And we would all eat. It was a chance for everyone to delight in the delicious skills of others, and to offer their own. Most of the kids have grown up (or are in the process of doing so), and have spread across the country, so the party is no longer. Its vestiges are manifested, for me, through an autumn hankering to be in the kitchen. With the leaves turning and the air crisping up, all I want to do is cook. My extreme affinity for fall flavors doesn't help either. Squash and apples--I just love the stuff.



Mushroom-ricotta lasagna

Brown Sugar-Apple Cake

So this weekend was rather a cook-o-rama for me. I spent my entire Saturday in the kitchen, going straight from cooking (and eating) brunch to making dinner. And then I baked a cake on Sunday. I'm happy to supply any recipe pictured. I'm just highlighting two here: a foccacia and spring-mix salad with crisp apples and warm goat cheese coated in hazelnuts.

The foccacia starts with the simple white bread loaf recipe, only it's flecked with rosemary leaves. I kneaded them in before the dough rose. You could sprinkle them on top, but I wanted each bite to impart the fragrant, woodsy flavour. Then I added a good dose of olive oil, sliced garlic and coarse salt before baking. It's straightforward and scrumptious.

Garlic-Rosemary Foccacia

Ingredients:

1 recipe classic white bread loaf dough

1 TBSP dried rosemary leaves, crushed or coarsely chopped (I crushed them by rubbing the dried leaves between my hands)

2 TBSP olive oil

2 cloves garlic, peeled and sliced

coarse salt

Directions:

--Make bread dough as directed. As you knead the dough smooth, add the rosemary. Continue with recipe, letting rise as normal.

--Heat oven to 425 degrees F. Lightly grease a 9x13 pan or cookie sheet. Pat dough down on pan. Using fingertips, press dimples into top of dough.

--Sprinkle olive oil, garlic and a few pinches of coarse salt over dough. Bake 20 minutes or until garlic is browned and foccacia feels hollow when tapped.

The salad is a really quick meal (and pairs nicely with the above foccacia). Sliced apples add an autumny note to a classic pepper-spring mix salad. The goat cheese receives a coating of chopped hazelnuts and is popped in the oven for a couple minutes, to become extra creamy and provide a contrast to the crunch of the nuts and apples.

Apple Salad with Hazelnut-Crusted Goat Cheese

Ingredients:

4 cups salad greens (I used a spring mix)

1 red bell pepper, sliced

2 tomatoes, chopped

2 apples, chopped into 1-inch squares

8-oz goat cheese, sliced into 9 rounds

1/4 cup hazelnuts, chopped

Dressing of your choice (I went for balsamic)

Directions:

--Mix greens, pepper, tomatoes and apples together in a large bowl. Add dressing and toss gently.

--Preheat oven to 350 degrees F. Line an 8x8 pan with parchment Place hazelnuts in a saucer. Gently roll sides of cheese in hazelnuts to form a coating. Place in pan. Repeat with 8 other rounds of cheese. Bake for 5 minutes, until cheese begins to soften and spread.

--Remove from oven. With a small spatula, place on top of salad greens.



Couscous Cakes & Salad with Lemon-Balsamic Vinaigrette

I often find recipes that look too good to be true. The magazine, blog or book might display a beautiful photo and claim an easy recipe, but in reality the dish is terribly fiddly and near impossible without surgical tools or a team of sous chefs. The recipe's author might successfully manage the tricky flipping or careful stirring, perhaps, but I will never be able to fully recreate the delicate dish. Such, I thought, would be the case with these couscous cakes. They looked beautiful in the picture, and the recipe appeared quite straightforward. Simply stir together cooked couscous and eggs, stuff into measuring cups to form the shape, and then dunk into a frying pan. But I knew it couldn't be so simple; there were simply too many opportunities for the cakes to fall apart, casting tiny kernels of couscous across the kitchen. Contrary to my fears, however, the recipe really was quite easy and manageable. The cakes held together just as the recipe claimed they would, and tasted just as gorgeous and complex as they looked.

The first trial was scooping the couscous mixture into 1/4 cup measuring cups and then unmolding them onto a plate while the pan heated up. The mixture, as you can see above, stayed together very neatly, giving me little towers of grain. The next not-so-challenging task was flipping the cakes in the pan. And once I realised that I needed to give the cakes enough time on one side to really crisp up, flipping was a breeze, as the cakes kept their shape very willingly.

The salad accompanying the cake is really a free-for-all; put whatever you'd like in it. I had basil in the couscous recipe, so I went with Italian flavours in the salad; tomatoes and artichokes, with a lemon-balsamic vinaigrette. The vinaigrette was lovely and tart, very refreshing on the summer evening and a nice compliment to the lightly fried cakes.

Adapted from Fine Cooking's couscous cakes.

Couscous Cakes & Salad with Lemon-Balsamic Vinaigrette

Ingredients for Cakes:
3/4 cup couscous

1/2 cup canned chickpeas, rinsed and drained

1 large clove garlic, peeled and finely chopped
1 TBSP dried basil
2 large eggs
zest of one lemon

salt and pepper

olive oil for the pan

Ingredients for Salad:

8 oz. baby greens, rinsed

14-oz jar of marinated artichoke hearts, chopped

1/2 cup cherry tomatoes, halved

handful of bean sprouts

Ingredients for Dressing:

2 TBSP lemon juice
5 TBSP olive oil
4 TBSP balsamic vinegar
salt and pepper

Directions:

--Bring to a boil 1 cup water. Pour over couscous and let sit 4-5 minutes.

--Mash chickpeas with a fork (or chop in a food processor). Mix with garlic, basil, lemon zest and 1 tsp salt until combined. Lightly whisk eggs and add to chickpeas along with couscous. Press mixture into a 1/4 cup measuring cup, and invert onto a plate. Repeat with remaining mixture; batter should make approximately 9 cakes.

--Heat 1 1/2 TBSP olive oil in a frying or nonstick pan over medium heat. Using a spatula, transfer couscous patties to pan, as many as your pan fits at one time. Flatten cakes to about 3/4 inch thick and cook until brown and patty stays together, about 4 minutes. Flip and cook until other side is browned. Transfer to paper towel-lined plate. Add 1 1/2 TBSP more oil and cook remaining cakes.

--Assemble salad. Put greens in bowl and scatter artichokes, tomatoes and bean sprouts over salad greens. Whisk together dressing ingredients, adding salt and pepper to taste, and pour over greens. Gently toss.

--Serve salad with couscous cakes on top or on the side. I let the dinner guests add as many as they wanted from a side platter, but it could be quite pretty to place them directly in the bowl of salad as well.

Curried Panzanella Salad with Ricotta and Sesame

Stale bread. Happens to us all. And for someone who doesn't like to throw anything away, until it's growing its own fuzzy garden, it is a problem. Living on my own makes it difficult to finish a whole loaf in a decent amount of time, so after a few good peanut butter sandwiches, I'm usually left with a half-loaf of dry bread. French Toast and Bread Pudding are good options, but for dinner I thought I'd make bread salad.

This is a summery panzanella, filled with corn, spinach and whole wheat bread. I toasted the bread in big, rustic chunks on a skillet (although this could be done in the oven) with olive oil and roasted garlic. They went into a bowl of cooked sweet corn and spinach, and the whole thing got a dousing of curry powder, salt and pepper. Then on top goes a dusting of sesame seeds and a dollup of mixed ricotta and mozzarella. The toasted bread and sesame seeds add a terrific crunch to the juicy corn and silky spinach. The ricotta breaks apart as you eat it, adding a creaminess to every bite. The proportions of ingredients here are really guidelines; more spinach or less bread would still create a lovely salad; just use what's available.

Curried Panzanella Salad with Ricotta and Sesame
Ingredients:
2 ears corn
1/2 cup frozen spinach (or about 1 cup of fresh leaves)
1 TBSP olive oil
Half a loaf of bread, cut into roughly 1-inch square chunks. Your choice of bread type type (I used whole wheat)
1 bulb garlic, roasted and diced (or 2 TBSP minced garlic)
1 tsp curry powder
salt and pepper
1/2 cup ricotta
4 oz mozzarella, shredded
sesame seeds

Directions:
--Bring a pot of water to boil. Add corn and cook about four minutes, more if the ears are particularly large. Remove corn from pot but do not drain water out. Add frozen spinach into the water and cook two minutes, until leaves are fully defrosted and separated (or until fresh leaves are wilted). With a knife, cut kernels from the cob. Mix spinach with corn, 1/2 TBSP curry powder and salt and pepper to taste.
--Heat oil in a small skillet. Add 1/2 TBSP curry powder. Add bread and garlic and cook, stirring often, until bread is toasty and crisp on the outside, about four minutes.
--Mix ricotta and mozarella together. Add bread to corn mixture and stir. Divide into two bowls and top each with a scoop of ricotta. Sprinkle with sesame seeds.

Peanut Butter Gnocchi

The recipe I used calls for the potatoes to be smashed through a ricer, one gadget I do not possess. I now realise I could have used a cheese grater to achieve the same effect, but at the time of production, I didn't know this trick, and so I dumped the cooked potatoes into a colander and squeezed them through its holes. The technique was actually quite successful, if time consuming. I spent perhaps ten minutes squishing the potatoes through the colander. But the resulting gnocchi was worth the time, as they are softer and lighter than any gnocchi I've made before.

These peanut butter gnocchi aren't sweet; I reckon with a bit of sugar, perhaps sauteed in butter and cinnamon, they could become a rather tasty dessert. But these particular gnocchi are savory, so I just doused them in a some soy sauce and garnished with crunchy sesame seeds. Next time, I might add sesame seeds to the dough as well, to further contrast the textures of the gritty seeds and the soft, pillowy dumplings.

Adapted from Fine Cooking's Potato Gnocchi recipe

Peanut Butter Gnocchi

Ingredients:

4 medium russet potatoes, scrubbed

1 1/2 cups unbleached all-purpose flour, plus extra for board

1 tsp salt

1 large egg

1/2 cup peanut butter (I used natural smooth)

Soy sauce, sesame seeds for serving (sesame oil would also be tasty)

Directions:

--Cut potatoes in large chunks; place in a medium pot and cover with water by at least 2 inches. Bring water to a boil, and then simmer until potatoes are soft, about 30 minutes.

--Drain potatoes and let cool until able to handle. Skin potatoes and mash, using a ricer, cheese grater or large-holed colander. Let cool in a large bowl about 20 minutes, or until room temperature.

--In a small bowl, mix flour and salt. Add egg to the potatoes and then add flour mixture. Mix with your hands until flour is moistened. Add peanut butter and continue mixing until dough begins to form large clumps. Gather dough together and press until one large ball forms.

--Flour a work surface and place dough on surface. Knead carefully until flour is fully incorporated and dough is smooth; don't overmix, or the dough may become tough. If the dough is sticky, wet hands in lieu of adding more flour, to ensure soft, tender dumplings.

--Cover two baking sheets with parchment and sprinkle parchment with flour. Take a lemon-sized piece of dough and roll on the floured surface into a rope about 3/4 inches in diameter. Using a sharp paring or bench knife, cut bite sized pieces of dough, to create about 3/4 inch squares. Transfer gnocchi to baking sheet, keeping pieces apart. Repeat until dough is used up.

(At this point, the gnocchi can sit at room temperature for two to three hours or be frozen. To freeze, put trays of gnocchi in the freezer for an hour and then transfer gnocchi to a Ziploc bag.)

--Bring a large pot of water to a boil. Cook gnocchi one third at a time. The gnocchi will sink to the bottom of the pot; give a slight stir to separate any pieces that are sticking together and wait until gnocchi float to the surface. Cook for one minute more. Carefully drain gnocchi in a colander, and transfer immediately to a pot and coat in sauce to avoid sticking. In this case, immediately drizzle with soy or teriyaki sauce. Garnish individual servings with sesame seeds. Makes 6 generous servings.