things consumed in new orleans

In alphabetical order:

Abita beer, two pints
Advil, one pill
Barbecue lobster, one tail
Barbecue pork sandwich, one, with coleslaw
Beignet, one


Biscuit, one, with strawberry jam
Blueberry cobbler, one, with ice cream
Cafe au lait, one, iced
Crawfish, four, boiled
Foie gras, with pepper jelly


Gin cocktail, one, by the esteemed Chris McMillian
King cake, one sample slice
Lima bean puree, with cornbread
Lucky dog, one, with mustard and ketchup
Oysters, half a dozen, fire-roasted
Oysters, half a dozen, raw


Omelet, one, with parmesan and salad
"Perfect" oatmeal, one, at Starbucks
Profiteroles, three, with espresso ice cream and salted caramel
Rabbit livers, fried, served with pepper jelly
Salad Lüke
Salami pizette
Sancerre, half a bottle


Shrimp, half a dozen, grilled, with chow chow
Satsuma sorbet, three mini scoops, with cat's tongue cookies
Sazerac, one, unfinished
Strawberry milkshake, one, with breakfast
Zucchini salad, shaved with goat cheese, mint, and pecans


Lest you think Dan and I (okay, me) are total gluttons, we managed to do a few things in New Orleans other than stuff our faces. Like walk around the Garden District, peruse vintage cookbooks at Kitchen Witch, tour the place where Mardi Gras floats get made, watch LeBron hit "the shot" during the playoffs from a fluffy hotel bed, and read by the pool. I'm happy to have seen this great old city once again, with its romantic balconies, and towering magnolia trees, and drunk, sunburned tourists downing dacquiris in the street. But most of all, to enjoy its cocktails and oysters and endless delicious fried things. New Orleans is by far one of the best food cities you can visit—on that note, run, don't walk to Cochon and Cochon Butcher in the Warehouse District. Both restaurants were simply incredible.

And now I am off to eat a salad.

spring break

Dan and I are heading to New Orleans for a few days and I'm so excited I can hardly stand it. It's been six whole years since I've been there and I can't wait to see how the city has changed and come back since Katrina. On the agenda: live music at Preservation Hall, little bites of fried heaven at Cafe Du Monde, Pimms Cups (hopefully in the afternoon), long, meandering walks around the French Quarter, and several promising dinners. Dan says he just wants to meet Lil' Wayne—which would be awesome—but something tells me Weezy's not hanging out at the Marriott. Although strange things do happen in New Orleans.

This is all to say that I am taking a little break from posting for the next week or so, but will return refreshed and ready for more dinner parties.

Until then,
Lisa

so-good coconut flan

I didn't have an especially sophisticated palate as a kid, but I really had a thing for flan. My second cousin, who really knows her way around the kitchen, made it for many family dinners and I became quickly hooked. She also whipped up gorgeous layered trifles, and meticulously iced layer cakes, and pies of all kinds, but the sight of that large, flan-filled glass baking dish chilling in her refrigerator always made me deliriously happy. It was so good: luscious, eggy custard with a perfectly caramelized sauce underneath that she would scoop up and pour over each serving. I miss her just thinking about it.

Over the years, I forgot about flan. Our family grew apart for reasons I still don't understand, bringing an end to those big family dinners. But when I was looking for a dessert to make for last weekend's fajita night, it seemed like a recipe worth resurrecting.

And ooh, I'm so glad I did. It was the best part of the meal by far. A bit of rum and toasted coconut give this recipe a little more tropical flavor than my cousin's classic version. Served straight from the fridge, the custard is delightfully silky and cool--the perfect thing to bring to a summer barbecue or enjoy as the weather heats up. Even people who were heading downstairs to catch a car home took the time to lick their plates. Always the sign of a good dessert in my book.

Coconut flan
The original recipe, from Gourmet, calls for coconut in the flan, which turned me off. I didn't want to interrupt the clean, smoothness of the custard with chewy bits. I still wanted that tropical flavor, so I toasted the coconut and added it as a topping--which also helps hide any cracks or imperfections in the custard.
(Serves 8 to 10 people)

1 cup sugar
1/4 cup water
3 1/2 cups whole milk, divided
1 14 oz. can sweetened condensed milk
3 large eggs
3 tablespoons dark rum (I used light rum and it was fine)
1/2 cup sweetened flaked coconut, toasted
Equipment: 12 (4-ounce) ramekins (or one 9-inch baking dish)

To make the caramel sauce, bring sugar and water to a boil in a small heavy saucepan over medium heat, stirring until sugar has dissolved. Boil, without stirring, swirling pan occasionally so caramel colors evenly, until dark amber. Immediately pour into ramekins or a baking dish and swirl so caramel coats bottom of each, then put ramekins in a large roasting pan.

Preheat oven to 350°F with rack in middle. Blend 2 cups milk with all of the flan ingredients except for the coconut in a blender until smooth, about 1 minute. (You can also do this by hand in a large bowl.) Transfer to a bowl and stir in remaining 1 1/2 cups milk, then divide among ramekins or pour into a baking dish. Bake flan in a water bath until just set but still wobbly in center, 1 to 1 1/4 hours. As the flan cooks, toast the coconut in a small pan on low heat. remove and set aside. When the flan is done, remove the ramekins or baking dish from the water bath and let it cool, at least 15 minutes. The flan will continue to set as it cools. Just before serving, run a thin knife around each flan, then invert onto plates. (I cut the custard into squares and served it straight from the pan, like my cousin did.) Top with the shredded coconut and don't forget to add some extra sauce.

friday night fajitas

A few weeks ago, our friend Vanessa, who lives in California, emailed to say she was going to be in New York for a few days. Dan and I don't see her nearly enough, so a celebration—or dinner at our place—was in order. We emailed a few mutual friends with the promise of margaritas and fajitas and Vanessa, and long story short, her trip got canceled.

Quite frankly, the news came as a shock. Canceling plans? With us? Who does she think she is? We hurled expensive glass objects and gnashed our teeth and beat our chests and sobbed messily into each other's shoulders. And then we blew our noses, collected ourselves, and had the party without her. Sorry, Vanessa!

And what a party it was. Sizzling steak fajitas, elote slathered with cojita cheese, margaritas—it was like eating at Chili's, but without the ugly decor. Jealous yet, Vanessa? You should be.


Friday night fajitas
Lazy margaritas
Guacamole and chips
Watermelon with lime and chili pepper
Steak fajitas
Elote
Rice and pinto beans
Coconut flan

In all seriousness, this was a fine way to spend a Friday night and Vanessa, you were missed. I usually don't like having a lot of people over immediately after work, but this meal was simple enough to assemble (I also did a few things in advance) that it didn't feel hectic. Shout out to Julie who brought excellent, still-warm tortillas from one of the tortilla factories in her neighborhood, the Tortilla Triangle, A.K.A. Bushwick.

I also made lazy margaritas, which always help in terms of my attitude and expediting drinks into everyone's hands. Purists would probably throw Patron bottles at me for this recipe, but hey, it's delicious! Instead of squeezing limes or making simple syrup, I use good-quality limeade along with the triple sec (Yes, I know—triple sec is inferior to Cointreau. But it's much less expensive!) and tequila. You just mix all of the ingredients in a big pitcher, float some lime slices on top, and serve over ice. Salted rim optional.


Lazy margaritas
You could substitute lemonade, or even pomegranate juice for the limeade, but be sure to choose a brand that isn't just corn syrup and artificial flavoring. When you're only using three ingredients for a cocktail, it makes a difference.
(Serves 8 to 10 people)

Tequila
Triple sec (I like Hiram Walker)
Limeade
1 lime, sliced thin

In a pitcher or punch bowl, combine 2 parts tequila, 1 part triple sec, and 1 part limeade. Stir to combine and add lime slices. Chill and serve in glasses over ice.


The sleeper hit of the night was elote—roasted corn with a creamy, salty topping. You can buy it at street fairs here in New York, or at one of our favorite summer spots, the food carts at the Red Hook ballfields. But it's also really easy to make at home. I roasted the corn in the oven, but if you have an outdoor grill, you can roast the corn in the husk and it will taste even better. I can't wait to hijack my parents' grill this summer and try it that way.

Elote
I adapted this recipe from the very talented Food Blogga. Her elote looks nowhere near as gloppy as mine, but no one complained about the extra cheese. In general, I find that to always be the case. You can serve elote as part of a meal or as a starter, just make sure you have plenty of napkins for everyone.
(Serves 6 to 8 people)

6 ears sweet corn
1/2 cup mayonnaise
Juice of 1 lime
1/4 tsp. cayenne pepper or chile powder, plus extra for sprinkling
salt, to taste
1/2 cup crumbled cotija anejo cheese (or queso fresco, both should be available in Mexican markets or the dairy section of your supermarket)
finely chopped cilantro for a garnish

Preheat your oven to 350 degrees and place corn in husks (no need to soak first) directly on the middle rack of the oven (or on cookie sheets) for 30 minutes, or until corn is soft to the touch. Allow to cool slightly, then remove husks and silks, and add toppings. (I cut my corn in half.)

Place crumbled cheese on a plate large enough to fit an ear of corn. In a small bowl mix the mayonnaise, lime juice, cayenne pepper or chile powder, and salt. When the corn is cooked, brush each ear with some mayo sauce then roll in the cheese. Sprinkle with additional cayenne pepper or chile powder, and the cilantro.

link-o-rama

The weather's starting to warm up and everyone is coming out of hibernation—at least in our neck of the woods. So here are a few links in honor of pot lucks and picnics and cookouts and those fleeting, lovely days between spring and summer.

Bon Appetit's great June issue has lots of things I'm excited to try, including a Caesar potato salad with snap peas. [via BA]

The "ultimate burger" from Gourmet. I have to admit, it does look pretty awesome. [via Gourmet]

Smitten Kitchen has two ideas that would be great for a potluck: broccoli slaw and rhubarb cobbler. [via Smitten Kitchen]

Via the Kitchn, fudgy-looking marscapone brownies that can be made in one bowl. [via the Kitchn]

Again with the superlatives, here's the "perfect" margarita from Chow. As you'll see in the lengthy comments section, the definition of perfect really depends on who's doing the drinking. Yikes. [via Chow]

dinner party on shelterrific

I've got another post over at Shelterrific today on chewy amaretti sandwich cookies. Intimidated by anything beyond slice-n-bake? Don't be. These little guys are really easy and quite delicious—like, eating five at a time delicious and then you turn around and they are gone. Don't say I didn't warn you.

polenta's hidden potential

The other week, Mindi and I had a girls night and she made me dinner at her apartment. I've written about our dinners before. There is wine, and therapeutic kvetching about this and that, and usually something good for dessert, and I can kick off my shoes as soon as I walk in the door. Bliss.

After nibbling on carrot sticks and tasty homemade baba ganoush, we got to work on dinner: fried polenta with fresh tomato sauce. I chopped garlic and herbs while Mindi fried up the already-firm polenta she made the night before and refrigerated. (Mindi's smart like that.) A little frying, a little sauteeing, some salad on the side, and dinner was done. She acted like it was no big thing, and truthfully, it didn't take that much time to whip everything up, but it was such a good weeknight meal: simple but satisfying, especially for being meatless.

The polenta squares were crispy on the outside and soft in the middle, topped with a chunky sauce and a little shredded mozzarella. The combination reminded me of pizza, which got me thinking about polenta's potential as a pizza crust. I usually make soft polenta at home but haven't really experimented with cornmeal when it's cooled and firm. It seemed like something worth trying--especially since flour is a no-no for me these days.

I found a recipe for a deep-dish polenta pizza from Real Simple that seemed, well, really simple. You whip up a batch of soft polenta, pour it into a pie pan, then add sauce or whatever other toppings you like (I went with mushrooms, olives, and goat cheese), and bake for 30 minutes. The pizza emerged golden and bubbling, very promising-looking. I'd like to say it was a revelation and I'll never go back to regular pizza again. Unfortunately, it was just okay. The crust was kind of akin to cornbread...which...I mean, duh.

Next time, I'll go with Mindi's method of frying the polenta, but add toppings and stick the squares under the broiler, pizza-style. That should do the trick.


Fried polenta with tomato sauce
Simple recipes, both from Giada De Laurentiis.
(Serves about 6 people)

For the polenta:
6 cups water
2 tsp. salt
1 3/4 cups yellow cornmeal
3 Tbsp. unsalted butter

To fry the polenta:
3 cups basic polenta
2 cups olive oil, for frying (I think you could use 1 to 1/2 cups)
1/4 cup grated parmesan
salt

For the sauce:
2 Tbsp. olive oil
2 tomatoes, diced
3 cloves garlic, chopped
1/2 cup dry white wine
1/2 cup butter (you could reduce this to 1/2 cup)
1/2 cup fresh basil leaves, chopped
1/2 bunch fresh thyme leaves, leaves only

1/2 cup shredded mozzarella

To make the polenta: bring 6 cups of water to a boil in a heavy large saucepan. Add 2 teaspoons of salt. Gradually whisk in the cornmeal. Reduce the heat to low and cook until the mixture thickens and the cornmeal is tender, stirring often, about 15 minutes. Turn off the heat. Add the butter, and stir until melted. Lightly oil an 11 by 7-inch baking dish. Transfer the hot polenta to the prepared baking dish, spreading evenly to 3/4-inch thick. Refrigerate until cold and firm, about 2 hours.

To make the sauce: In a saute pan, heat the remaining olive oil and add tomatoes and garlic and cook for 2 to 3 minutes. Whisk in the wine and butter and reduce until sauce has thickened and then add the basil and thyme.

To fry the polenta: Preheat the oven to 250 degrees (*Optional). Cut the polenta into 2 by 1-inch pieces. Heat the oil in a heavy large skillet over medium-high heat. Working in batches, fry the polenta pieces until golden brown on all sides, about 3 minutes per side. Using tongs, transfer the polenta pieces to paper towels and drain. Place the polenta pieces on a baking sheet and keep warm in the oven while cooking the remaining batches. (*We skipped this step and it was fine.)

Transfer the polenta pieces to a serving platter. Serve with tomato sauce and shredded mozzarella.