Israeli Couscous

One of the reasons I love cooking is that bonds can be built when sharing food with someone else. Whenever I meet a fellow food lover, there is an instant connection I feel to that person. This was the case when I began to build a relationship with my sister-in-law seven years ago. Aside from the fact that she would eventually become a member of our family, food was the fundamental building block of our friendship.

Israeli couscous was the first recipe that E shared with me, and as soon as I tried it, I knew she was a cook that spoke my language. This was a dish I loved and could wholly relate to, and it was then that I knew we would cook well in tandem. We’ve modified it through the years, but it remains one of “our dishes.”

Week after week I find myself eating the same thing for lunch everyday. This is mostly because it is thrifty to do so, and that has been the name of my game since graduating from college. But I am beginning to wonder how much longer I can handle different variations of the trite turkey sandwich. Couscous is a grain with infinite versatility. This particular recipe has a Mediterranean flavor profile. However depending on the ingredients added, it can wear different ethnic hats any day of the week. Tuscan, Greek, Spanish—you name it! Switching out ingredients for ones you better prefer only makes it tastier. 

                                     

                                     

That being said, I often use this recipe as inspiration to come up with ideas depending on the ingredients I have on hand. Make a large batch of couscous in the beginning of the week and add ingredients from last night’s dinner to make a lunch entirely different than the day before. If you have leftover salmon or chicken, either would make a hearty addition to this couscous. Also, substituting a dried fruit for the sun dried tomatoes adds a sweetness that balances the tart and salty flavors.


I should mention that in regard to the vegetables and added ingredients, you don't have to be exact in measuring... For each person's preference, the more the merrier, as the case may be!  

Happy eating,

Lindsay

Note: Raised serving plate in top photo by Lisa Neimeth.

Israeli Couscous Salad

2 tablespoons canola oil

1 cup israeli couscous*

2 cups water

1 teaspoon salt

½ cup toasted pine nuts

½ cup artichoke hearts, chopped

½ cup diced cucumber

¼ cup sun dried tomatoes, diced

¼ cup feta cheese

½ cup cilantro, chopped**

1 cup Lemon Vinaigrette (recipes follows)

First, prepare the Lemon Vinaigrette and set aside. Heat oil in a pot over medium-high heat. Add the couscous and toast until brown, about 3 minutes. Add the water and salt to the pot and bring to a boil. Then, turn the heat down and cover. Let simmer for 5 to 7 minutes until the couscous is tender.

Drain in a mesh strainer so the smallest grains do not slip through. Put the couscous into a bowl and immediately pour over the vinaigrette. Make sure you do this when the couscous is still hot so that the grains soak up the vinaigrette. Stir so that the vinaigrette fully coats that couscous, and put in the fridge to cool, about one and a half hours. 


While the couscous is cooling down, prepare the vegetables. Once chilled, add the rest of the ingredients and toss gently. Serve couscous cold.

Lemon Vinaigrette

Juice and zest of 2 lemons

1 teaspoon dijon mustard
1/4 cup olive oil

1 tablespoon honey

Combine all ingredients in the blender, or whisk by hand, until incorporated and thick.

Notes: 
* Israeli couscous can be found at most grocery stores in the grains sections. We prefer the “Harvest Grains Blend” from Trader Joe’s. You end up devouring it with your eyes before it gets to your mouth. The different grain sizes and textures make the couscous more dynamic and interesting. However regular Israeli cousous, aka pearl couscous, is perfectly acceptable.

**I've come to realize that you are either a parsley person or a cilantro person. Being that I am from California, I lean to cilantro. But parsley, or another leafy hearb would be just as great. 

Cocktails to Beat the Hair Blues

I have trust issues when it comes to my hair.  I feel most women and gay males can relate to this fact; I don’t trust just anyone with my complicated locks!  Thus, I’m sure you can imagine how frightened I was when my hairstylist announced she was moving to Hawaii.  For good.  As in, never coming back (I miss you, Joanne!). 

The difficulty in allowing someone new to cut (and maybe color…) my hair stems from a horrible ‘do I received in 1996 from a very pregnant woman most likely high on whatever hormones were raging through her body. As a naïve pre-teen in the throes of puberty, I walked into her salon asking for a trim and left with a bob that would truly only work on a girl with pixie-like bone structure.  I am not a pixie. I am not Natalie Portman.

My hair is wavy and kinks in the front, I have a large, heart shaped face, and to top it off, I possess practically zero skills in the art of hairstyling. Basically, only specific styles work for me.

Having read this, most people would assume I took great care in looking for someone new.  However, desperation of having not had my hair cut in 6 months, as well as being in a wedding in a few weeks caused me to act. I was walking my dog two weeks ago when I passed a salon in my neighborhood. The people working inside looked young and hip, but not crazy-hip (i.e. no one resembled Edward Scissorhands or Flea).  Upon entering the salon, I discovered new clients get 20% off on their first cut.  Score. I booked an appointment and returned a week later.

Embarrassed, I showed my new stylist the split ends I’d been cultivating for months and explained in great detail what not to do with my hair.  Maybe there was a language barrier.  Maybe he has a hearing deficit. Maybe I didn’t actually explain as well as I thought I did (in actuality, this is most likely the case).  Either way, I left the salon that day looking like a lhasa apso.

Let me preface this mini-rant: he completely nailed my color.  I love it.  It looks the way my hair did before I hit 20, which is exactly what I was going for.  The cut, however, was reminiscent of a hair-era that should forever be forgotten: the seventies.  Upon seeing it, a friend of mine told me it reminded her of Florence Henderson in a good way.  Sorry, but since when has any reference to Carol Brady’s hair been a good thing?

Needless to say, I was in the throes of depression for the rest of the day, and well into the evening.  Once night set, I realized there was only one thing that could lift my spirits: a cocktail.  Not just any cocktail, mind you; one that would soothe my broken heart as well as appropriately convey my desperate state in name, body and soul.  I mixed myself a Dark and Stormy.

                                  (My dog likes to commiserate with me.)

Have you ever had a Dark and Stormy?  Aside from the excellent name, it genuinely tastes like an alcoholic root beer.  Yes, please!  Starting with dark rum, adding the juice of a lime and some spiced simple syrup (incredibly easy to make by the way, don’t be scared!), and topping it off with ginger beer, a Dark and Stormy can cure many a bad mood, or at least aid a person in trying to overcome one. It did just that for me on that fateful hair day and helped wash away any hair nightmares I may have had in my sleep.

Looking in the mirror the next morning, I realized I still hated my hair.  It looked even worse with the added element of bedhead.  Ripping myself away from the bathroom mirror, I entered our dining room to see a bowl of lemons sitting near our sun-dappled windowsill.  Lovely. How simply lovely. And breathtakingly beautiful. 

As strange as this sounds, the lemons inspired me to hop in the shower and get over the hair blues.  Towel drying, brushing, blow drying thirty minutes later (albeit with the mantra “Hair grows out. It will grow out!”), I realized my hair wasn’t actually half bad.  In fact, I kind of liked it.  In fact, it no longer reminded me of Florence Henderson!  Score.

When things have a way of working themselves out in this manner, there’s really only one thing I like to celebrate with: a cocktail.  With the bowl of lemons just begging to be used, I figured a Lemon Drop was in order. 

I am not a fan of vodka.  Over the years, we’ve just had too many run-ins; they’ve left us embarrassed, cringing and hating one another.  Having said that, I cannot ignore how essential vodka has become in today’s age of mixology.  Vodka has the ability to absorb flavor incredibly well, which makes for a delicious drink, especially one that also involves sugar and lemon juice.

So I mixed one up.  I toasted my hair-do (previously thought hair-don’t).  And I felt great.

Happy drinking (and cheers!),

Elizabeth

Simple Syrup

1 part water
1 part sugar

In a saucepan over medium-low heat, combine the water and sugar. Syrup is done once sugar is completely dissolved.

To make flavored simple syrup (a delicious and complex addition to any drink), simply add whole spices (like vanilla bean, cinnamon sticks, anise pods, allspice berries, cloves, etc.) and strain them out of the syrup before adding.

Dark and Stormy

Juice of one lime (about half an ounce)
½ ounce simple syrup (see above recipe)
1 ½ ounces dark rum
Ginger beer

In a cocktail shaker with ice, vigorously shake lime, simple syrup and rum. Strain into a glass filled with ice.  Top drink with ginger beer (try Reed’s Extra Ginger Brew, which can be found at Trader Joe’s).

Lemon Drop

Juice of half a lemon (about half an ounce)
½ ounce simple syrup (see above recipe)
1 ½ ounces vodka (obviously, the better the vodka, the better the taste).

Chill martini glasses in freezer. Once cold, rim lip of glass with lemon and dip them in a plate of sugar. In a cocktail shaker with ice, vigorously shake lemon juice, simple syrup and vodka.  Immediately pour into the prepared glass using strainer.

To jazz up this drink, feel free to add some grated ginger or flavored syrup (raspberry and pomegranate are great additions for flavor and color.  Torani is a great quality syrup to use).


** A note on the cocktail shaker mentioned in the previous recipes. We recommend you use this shaker with a pint glass instead of this set with a top.  There are a few reasons for this recommendation.  One, the metal tops have a tendency to stick when you're trying to remove the metal top after shaking.  Two, they can rust really easily if not cleaned properly.  In using the metal shaker with a pint glass, you get easy removal and less of a mess.

A Girls' Weekend in The City

What girl doesn’t love a girls’ weekend?  Yes, we’re talking about the time honored tradition of ditching the boys, grabbing some martinis and talking to the point of having your vocal cords bleed. The location and various activities don’t hold as much weight as the food and drinks, but the company you share them with certainly does (not to mention the obnoxious eighties hits to sing along to at the top of your lungs, possibly after imbibing one too many of the previously mentioned libations).

Thus, after months of promising to do so, Elizabeth shot up the 5, with a lady copilot in the passenger seat, to San Francisco, Lindsay’s home kicks.  As we’re sure many of you know, San Francisco is a fabulous place for those who love eating and drinking. And luckily for us, we managed to spend the weekend taking full advantage of what it has to offer.  

Upon Lindsay’s suggestion, we went with a group of fun-loving gals to Mission Street Food for dinner on Saturday night.  This special gem practices an unusual and innovative concept: borrowing the space of a Chinese restaurant deep in the Mission District on Thursday and Saturday nights, local guest chefs churn out some of the city’s most delicious and affordable food. Most dishes are around $6-$12, so price doesn't hold patrons back from sampling a bit of everything. The menu changes weekly; thus, every time you come back, there is something new to experience! 

A highlight of our meal was Lung Shan's Vegan Delight, a bowl of shiitake and oyster mushroom dumplings floating in a miso soup. The tender dumplings and sumptuous broth had us moaning with our eyes closed.  Another favorite was their take on an all-American favorite: cheesecake. A honey mascarpone filling atop an oatmeal lace crust and sprinkled with candied walnuts created a result that was soft and perfectly sweet on top, light and crispy on the bottom. Oooo-eeee! 

The menu that night featured other intriguing items that we ordered merely out of curiosity, like the Sonoma foie gras "corndogs" with homemade fig and bacon "ketchup". It’s items like these that keep people coming back again and again— it's difficult to find restaurants that offer delicious innovation at such reasonable prices, even in San Francisco. All in all, it was a lovely meal spent with some fabulous ladies. 

After stuffing our bellies and downing some wine, there was really only one thing left to do:  DANCE!  

It’s hard to mess up a Sunday morning breakfast following a night of spastic dancing and (maybe…) one too many drinks; however, it’s also hard to find a Sunday morning breakfast that hits it out of the park like the one we experienced at Outerlands.  Lindsay has been here many times and was happy to make the introduction on Elizabeth’s behalf. We let Lindsay’s boyfriend, Jack, tag along since he’s always a good time and game for culinary exploration.  We started our morning with a divine Blue Bottle Coffee cappuccino, but diverged with our entrees: Linds went savory and E went sweet.  Both meals were made with Outerlands' house-made bread and, if you’re like us, those two words together can only mean good things!  

Linds didn’t have to think much after seeing the cleverly named “Eggs In Jail” on the menu that morning.  Having been treated to her Auntie Kitty's version growing up, this particular dish held special meaning for her.  Early on, Lindsay's brother, Kyle, (who also happens to be Elizabeth’s husband) came up with with his own appropriate name for the dish: “Eggy in a Bready.” Tall and handsome compared to its homemade counterpart, the thick bread (coming in at two inches!) made for a dramatic jail for the eggs. The quality of the bread upped the ante, and tasted as delightful as anticipated. 

(See what we mean about the bread?!)

After much struggle, Elizabeth decided on the Moroccan French Toast, two thick slices of levain soaked in cinnamon and orange and topped with toasted almonds.  Crisp on the outside, soft on the inside, it provided the kind of melt-in-your-mouth bites that one hopes for, but rarely gets, with French toast.  

It doesn’t take much arm twisting to get us to order dessert and thank goodness we didn’t stop ourselves this trip. Sublime is the only word for the butterscotch pot de crème we split after breakfast. A 3-inch ramekin filled with an exquisite combination of caramel crème, toasted pecans and fleur de sel. Every bite was perfection, and we don't use that word lightly! We wish we could show you what it looked like before we ate it, but alas…it didn’t last long enough for us to take a photo.  

Looking forward to our next girls' weekend... Possibly in LA?

Happy Eating,

Lindsay and Elizabeth

Southwest Stuffed Kabocha Squash

With all the rain and gloomy skies we San Franciscans battled this winter (and now continuing into spring), it’s possible I developed seasonal depression; I've come to long for San Diego's not-so-much winters. I guess that’s what I get for transplanting myself from Southern California to the state’s northern, and much chillier, hemisphere. However, the one thing I do love about winter is the squash that comes with it.

My new favorite this year is kabocha squash. The size is perfect for just one person and the taste is creamy, buttery and rich. Because squash improve after a few weeks, especially the kabochas, they begin to taste better as the starches convert to sugars. Therefore, I have concluded that squash are just as good to enjoy well into the spring months. After all, it's May and they are still making appearances at weekend farmer's markets and claiming real estate in grocery stores.

This recipe was developed as an ode to the last of the winter squash; savoring the last before moving on to those harvested in summer. I think it is the perfect recipe for that transition time (i.e. when you are between seasons of produce). The spicy southwest flavors get me thinking about the warm months to look forward to, while still comforting me from the brisk San Francisco fog. 

Squash can be difficult to shop for since you can't exactly gauge ripeness on tenderness. A heavy squash with dull, unblemished skin is one you want to take home with you when at the market. Cutting squash requires a sharp knife and a steady hand—so be careful! I find that cutting squash alone can be too daunting a task. For fear of amputating an arm, I sometimes roast the squash first and cut it later, once the rind has softened. For this recipe, you want to make sure you don't cook it too long; just enough to soften the skin. 

This Southwest Stuffed Kabocha Squash serves four. If you want to add another side for bigger appetites, try a nice tossed corn salad. Feel free to switch fillings up. For a leaner meal, use all turkey. For boosted flavor, mix beef and pork. For added authentication, switch out the Swiss cheese for Mexican cotija. 

Happy eating,

Lindsay

Southwest Stuffed Kabocha Squash

3 kabocha squash

2 tablespoons olive oil

Salt and pepper

2½ ounces ground turkey

2½ ounces ground pork

I small onion, chopped

½ medium red bell pepper, chopped

1 clove garlic, minced

1 teaspoon chili powder

1 teaspoon ground cumin

2 cups fresh cherry tomatoes, chopped

1 15-ounce can black beans, rinsed

1 cup shredded swiss cheese 

3 tablespoons cilantro, chopped

Preheat oven to 375 degrees. Cut squash in half horizontally. Scoop out and discard the seeds. Rub the cut-side of the squash with 1 tablespoon of olive oil, and sprinkle with a pinch of salt and pepper on each half. Place squash cut-side down on a baking sheet covered in foil. Bake until tender, about 45 minutes.

Meanwhile, coat a large skillet with the remaining tablespoon of olive oil; heat over medium heat. Add the ground turkey and pork and cook, stirring and breaking up with a wooden spoon, until lightly browned; 3 to 5 minutes. Add the onions and red pepper and cook until just softened. Stir in garlic, chili powder and cumin; cook for 30 seconds. Stir in tomatoes, beans, ½ teaspoon of salt and hot sauce, scraping any browned bit from the bottom so that it incorporated into the mixture. Don't worry if a lot of brown bits have accumulated at the bottom of the pan. The tomato juice will break it up; just keep working your spoon to scrape it. Cover, reduce heat to to medium-low, and simmer until the tomatoes are broken down, 10 to 12 minutes.

When the squash are tender, remove from oven and reduce temperature to 325 degrees. Use tongs to flip over the squash, as they will be very hot. Divide the turkey/pork mixture evenly between the squash halves. Top each with a quarter cup or so of cheese. Place on baking sheet skin-side down and bake until filling is heated through and the cheese is melted, 8 to 10 minutes.