easy does it

The other weekend, I somehow managed to make one of the best dinners I've made in awhile. If I sound a little bewildered it's because I didn't really do much at all. That's the brilliant thing about late-summer cooking. All this wonderful stuff is right there for the taking, all you have to do is bring it home (and uh, $hell out for it at the farmer's market), dress it up a little bit and let the compliments roll in. Seriously, the less you do, the better.

Here's what you do:

summertooth

Summer is one of my favorite times of the year. The sun sets around 8:30, allowing the neighborhood to linger on their stoops and at sidewalk cafes. Gardens explode with flowers wild and cultivated. The good tomatoes start appearing at the farmers market. And friends come out of hiding, wanting to grab dinner, have a picnic, come over for brunch. As you probably know, I complain a lot about the mass exodus of our friends, but suddenly my calendar got really full, really fast. Which meant lots of cooking, of course. Here are a few standouts from the past month or so:

In the category of "fake it 'til you make it," I have a fun recipe made for apartment dwellers without access to a grill or campfire, or people who don't want to cook with fire. It's hot, I don't blame you.

something old, something new

So that backload of fun dinner parties (er, brunch parties) I was going on about the last time I posted? Well, it all came to a screeching halt pretty soon after my friends and I finished that bottle of prosecco.

a tale of two brunches

I go a few weeks without posting and suddenly I have a backlog of recipes to tell you about! Although not of the dinner variety. Our house has been brunch party central recently and it got me thinking about cooking in the morning for people. Things like individual omelets or pancakes are best left to diner professionals. Don't go down that path. You really only have two courses of action if you don't want to run in the bathroom and hide before everyone's second round of mimosas.

cold comforts

I'm back in the dinner party saddle and have a real winner to share. 

I'm not the biggest fan of salmon, and Dan doesn't like potatoes (I know, right?), and yet, thumbing through the new (and very first) Epicurious cookbook, I paused at a recipe for salmon chowder. It was light pink with big flakes of fish throughout plus corn kernels, baby potatoes, crispy bacon and lots of chives on top. A bowl of creamy chowder seemed like the perfect thing to eat on an icy winter night. Potatoes be damned.

this and that

So far, this has been a dinner party-less January, but I've still been doing a lot of cooking for myself and Dan. And Mabel when things fall on the floor. Here is a look at what's been in heavy rotation.

Stir-frys
At the risk of sounding...I don't know, like a recent visitor from the 1980s, I am on a big-time stir-fry kick. I like dinners that can be made in one pan, that include all of the things that form a complete meal: starch, protein, vegetables. I have tried one with greens, chicken and peanuts, one with chicken and cashews (adding bell peppers and bok choy), and a very-tinkered-with variation of this one, with ground turkey and have enjoyed them all but feel like I haven't cracked the stir-fry code. I haven't yet found one that I want to make again and again. Any suggestions?

instant fancy

I wish you could stand in my apartment and inhale with me. It smells so good. And I'm not even cooking anything! Well, cooking anything edible.

I'm not a DIY kinda girl, but I recently pinned a recipe for a three-ingredient room fragrance that Williams-Sonoma supposedly uses in its store to entice people to buy, I don't know, stand mixers. I couldn't remember what Williams-Sonoma actually smells like (Peppermint bark? Apple cider? Overpriced small appliances?) but the ingredients: a handful of rosemary, one sliced-up lemon and vanilla extract sounded like a delicious combination. I might not be able to upholster my own headboard, but I can handle dumping three things into a pot with a few cups of water and turning on the heat.

And now, as these magic ingredients bubble away on my stovetop, I am hooked.

link-o-rama, new year's eve edition

Happy (almost) New Year!

Dan and I will be ringing in 2013 at home, dreaming of balmy New Year's Eves past spent with friends in Florida. There's nothing like cocktails and sparklers on the back patio in December. But then again, there's something nice about bundling up and heading out into the cold for dinner at a cozy restaurant that's bursting with happy, red-cheeked diners. Or eating a big cheese plate in your toasty apartment as you watch all those shivering Times Square fools on TV.

If you're staying in, I found lots of recipe inspiration for you. Starting with these lovely little chocolate croissants. It's an absolute no-brainer recipe (just three ingredients!), and absolutely delicious. I made some for a party recently and debated making a double batch to store in the freezer (AKA, eat all by myself later). Shoulda, but didn'ta.

The recipe, by Nigella Lawson, is here, but one extra key thing to add is a little sprinkling of flaky salt on top of the croissants as soon as they emerge from the oven, all puffed and golden. See, they are so good I'm reverting to Nigella-speak. Make them for New Year's Eve and eat them warm with some sparkling wine. You'll go to bed very happy.

More links after the jump!

surviving the party-party

Not too long ago I was longing for a party-party -- a gathering more party than dinner party, where people outnumber chairs. And last weekend, I got my wish. Friends filed into our apartment after work, bearing wine and cheese and potted plants and suddenly the house was full. Mabel had so many laps to choose from, she didn't know what to do with herself.

Cooking for a real party-party can be a tricky thing. My friend Casey, who is cooking for freaking 75 people(!!) this New Year's Eve, told me that she prepares a variety of food in shifts because people come and go throughout the night. Instead of making a Costco-sized vat of onion dip, she makes largeish portions of several different recipes and serves everything in stages. Cold appetizers might come first, followed by some hot mains, and then maybe some desserts. What you eat depends on when you arrive. If I was invited, I would arrive before dawn so I wouldn't miss anything.

Unlike Casey, I only hosted 10 people, so I didn't need to plan with military precision. But I did a few things that you might find helpful the next time you find yourself with a crowd to feed.

the dinner party is dead. long live the dinner party.

Did you guys read this?

I wanted to dismiss it as just another bogus New York Times trend story, but it got me thinking. How often do I go to dinner parties, other than my own? Forget the term “dinner party,” how often do I go to someone else’s house for a meal, any meal?

Now, the article describes a world I have never, and will never inhabit. It’s dinner party as theater, where every component of an evening is orchestrated down to the serving utensils. It’s society ladies in caftans, seating arrangements and salad forks. It’s about as far away from the way most people eat and entertain as the moon. If this style of entertaining goes the way of the finger bowl, so be it, in my opinion. But does that mean the intimacy of having someone over to your home, feeding them and sharing real face-to-face communication is slowly dying?

link-o-rama, and being thankful

Can you believe Thanksgiving is next WEEK? I have been living in a deep, dark hole called Thanksgiving at work, and even I can't believe the actual holiday is a few days away. Thank God I'm not cooking this year. Well, maybe a pie. Or two. And some appetizers. And cranberry sauce.

If you, like me, are still cobbling together this year's menu, I've got some helpful links for you to check out.

My girl Casey over at Good. Food. Stories. is my personal Thanksgiving guru. She knows exactly how to time your turkey and side dishes and gravy and all that business so that everything hits the table at just the right time. Here's her Thanksgiving timeline and some pro tips.

Appetizers that don't fill people up but still keep them out of the kitchen and out of your hair are key. Here are some winners from iVillage. (The first slide deserves some sort of special award for appetizer brilliance.)

Also from iVillage, 50 side dishes for the still-undecided.  

Food + Wine has potluck-friendly dishes to bring if you're not hosting this year.

And some pretty wonderful-looking cockails.

If you can't splurge on Thanksgiving, you have no reason to continue eating and therefore living, and these "splurge-worthy" desserts from Southern Living certainly fill that bill. Sweet potato pie with marshmallow meringue!

If you don't want to go the pumpkin dessert route this Thanksgiving, try one of these tasty-looking "alt-pumpkin" desserts from Bon Appetit. I think alt-pumpkin should be the next big music genre.

  

                                                                        ***

This year, more than ever, I am feeling grateful for having a home, a job, friends and family I love. I'm also thankful to have this little corner of the Internet and that people like you read it. Have a wonderful Thanksgiving.

what's for dinner, jenny park?

It's a cliche, I know, but it was love at first sight when I first visited the blog Spoon Fork Bacon. The gorgeous photos! The instantly appealing recipes! The crazy-awesome animated GIFs! It's no surprise that Teri Lyn Fisher and Jenny Park, the women behind the site, landed a cookbook deal. And it's no surprise that Tiny Food Party is as wonderful as their site. Today, Jenny, the food stylist half of the team, answers the usual Dinner Party questions about how she entertains at home. (And if you still haven't visited their site yet, go now!)

1. Name, occupation, and city
Jenny Park, food stylist/recipe developer, and co-author of Tiny Food Party: Bite-Size Recipes for Miniature Meals, Los Angeles

2. When was the last time you threw a dinner party, and who was invited?
The last time I threw a dinner party was about a month ago...taco bar night and it was with a small group of my LA friends.

a party-party

In our house, five is the magic number for dinner parties. Part of this is out of necessity -- we can only squeeze five people around our dining table. It also makes menu planning easy. Most recipes feed six to eight people, so you're always covered food-wise. But I also think five is a good number for conversations. It's intimate but still lively enough that it feels like a party. You never go to bed feeling like you didn't get a chance to talk to everyone and missed out on good gossip.

But like many people who love to entertain at home, I've held onto a fantasy of hosting a really big party. Not five people, more like 25. I would swan around, refilling drinks and setting out tray after tray of delightful finger foods, dropping into conversations here and there. Now, this is unrealistic for many reasons, mostly because our circle of friends has been whittled down over the years thanks to people moving out of New York (losers!). Also, I don't own 25 forks. And don't really like making an entire menu of finger foods.

So when I decided to throw a housewarming party for our new apartment, I struck a compromise with myself and invited eight people for a party of 10, counting Dan and myself. Ten seemed do-able. I would make a ton of food and it would be an actual party. Not a dinner party, a party-party.

In the end, it ended up being five adults and one toddler. And did I make less food? Absolutely not.

a note fromm mabel

Mabel heer.

Woh. Anunthr day, anuthr partee.

Evr sence we muved into the noo hous ther hav ben so manee partees. As the peeple lik to sey, Mabel is al parteed out.

It taks alot to be a good hostee. Wen I heer the buzz sownd thet meens peepl are heer I run to the dor to tel them with lowd barks to say Im heere, up Here. Becus maybee they dont kno wher to go.

fall favorites

Even though I haven't been blogging that much, I have been cooking a ton. If summer is about doing as little as possible to fresh ingredients, fall is about baking, and braising, and struggling to cut butternut squash. (Pro tip for the lazy: buy it pre-cut.)

Whether or not it feels like fall where you are, you can fake that wonderful chill-in-the-air feeling with food. Here's a roundup of some really good fall recipes I've been making lately:

Dan's parents were in town for a long weekend, so I hosted dinner one night. Being that they were up from Florida, I wanted to make a meal that really felt like October in New York. Which is exactly what this pumpkin pilaf tastes like. I'm sure you're skeptical already. A pilaf, with pumpkin in it? It is wonderful, and it can be made all in one pot. Let me break it down for you: tender rice, savory onions, Indian-inspired spices (tumeric, cumin, cinnamon), sweet chunks of squash, plump raisins and grassy parsley. I substituted butternut squash for the pumpkin and also added a handful of almonds. 

grilled cheese, please

I’m not a huge grilled cheese person. I like the sensory pleasure of crunching into dry, buttery toast and melty cheese, but it's not something I crave. I'd rather eat cheese on a pizza, or just straight up with some cured meat.

However, as a kid, it was often my standard order in restaurants, along with chicken fingers and Shirley Temples. Ah, to be a budding lush, oblivious to calories. I remember the thick, oily toast and oozy American cheese at Denny’s in particular. It was cut into two triangles and served with a pile of wavy-cut fries the same color as the toast. Maybe that’s why I’m not such a fan now.

But then fall rolls around, and I start thinking soups, and autumnal salads, and what goes better with those two things? You got it.

good things

So this happened last week.

Can you see the look of intense concentration on my face? I am whisking a pot of béchamel, trying to make sure I am whisking at approximately the same speed as Martha, praying she will not scold me in a room full of people, like she does to Marcus Samuelsson in that Macy’s commercial. I love that commercial, and I love Martha. But I really didn’t want a scolding.

the first supper

Readers, we made it. Barely.

We arrived at our new apartment while it was still under construction. Surprise! A day and a half later -- and two gas leaks in the kitchen (surprise!) -- we started getting settled in. I forgot how utterly exhausting it is to move. Everyone knows moving's not fun, not something you want to do every year, or even every seven years, but the physicality of it! The lifting and bending and reaching and scrubbing and shoving a too-big clothing rack down three flights of stairs. Whew!

goodbye, kitchen

Goodbye, kitchen.

Goodbye, countertops. You measure a little less than two feet across but were just wide enough. (Okay, not quite.)

Goodbye, pitifully small Modern Chef gas oven that produced slanted cakes, countless meals and on one occasion, stopped working right before a dinner party. Modern Chef, I wish I knew how old you were. At what point in time were you considered modern? How many meals have you cooked in your lifetime? You seem as permanent as our apartment’s crown molding and wood floors; an old fixture that should never be changed. Sorry, new tenants.

summer drinking

In the summertime, all around New York City, you'll see happy people drinking on sidewalk cafes, front stoops and in restaurants that have flung open their doors and windows. Just seeing a cold glass of rosé in someone's hands makes my mouth water. It's so Pavlovian, it's downright scary.

Maybe I'm just trying to make myself feel better, but it's also the social aspect of summer drinking that's so appealing. The idea of shrugging off your day in the early evening or late afternoon, meeting a friend or two somewhere and wrapping your hot palms around a glass of something cold and refreshing. Now, that thing could be a soda, but more likely I am fantasizing about a glass of white or a tall, Belgian-style beer.

With that in mind, here's some links from around the web to make summer drinking more interesting and enjoyable.

Bon Appetit's 12 rules to drink (wine) by this summer. Some highlights: make white sangria with Savignon Blanc, Pinot Grigio or Gruner Veltliner (my favorite white), drink vermouth on ice and chill that Beaujolais.

Also, BA editor-in-chief Adam Rapoport drinks his beer on ice. Thoughts?

Quite possibly the girliest drink ever, this strawberry rosé spritzer from Food52 has my name written all over it.

How pretty are these frozen fruit skewers? Now imagine them in a glass of champagne. 

Food + Wine rounds up 25 affordable wines for summer grilling.

And for your drinking and viewing pleasure, I have compiled 50 summer drink recipes (both hard and soft) over at iVillage.

Photo from the bar at Husk in Charleston, where we drank very well, on a recent vacation.