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What is your favorite type of food? If you could only eat one type of food for the rest of your life, what would you choose?

I love all food, so choosing would prove quite difficult.

I’m American, so let’s start with American food. I searched on the internet for American food, because, truly, I’m not sure what American food is. My search led me to a lot of photographs of hot dogs and hamburgers, fried chicken, ribs and chili. Really? Is that the best we can do? I can’t imagine never eating a grass fed filet mignon, wrapped in bacon and rosemary and grilled on the barbeque again. Especially if it is served with a baked potato melting with butter, sour cream, chives and pepper, and of course, some green beans, eaten with my fingers. But wait, I prefer Haricot Verts, which are French, so does that mean I’m stuck with a wedge salad as my vegetable? Perfect steak aside, the rest of “American” food doesn’t really sound that great when you are talking about eternity, ‘til death do you part. And, frankfurters come from Frankfurt, Germany, so how did it get it’s all American status? I eat my two hot dogs a year with ketchup and relish, so I can claim that my version IS American. My first hot dog of the year is usually eaten at a baseball game, so that makes it even more American. The second hot dog of the year is eaten at Costco, another American institution. I think I’m safe counting the hot dog as American, but still, I don’t see myself eating hot dogs every day for the rest of my life.

I love Mexican food: grilled fish tacos, chili verde, carnitas, cocido de reyes, tamales, home made corn tortillas and fresh salsas, just to name a few. I have even perfected a low fat, slow cooker version of carnitas that passes muster with my boys. I make what I refer to as “white chick” posole that even people who claim to not like posole tell me is good. I am not in love with hominy’s texture, so I substitute fire roasted corn in my version, hence the “white chick” label. I’m even known for attempting to poison my father on his birthday with my shrimp cocktail of rock shrimp, avocado and fire roasted salsa. (Dad’s allergic to shell fish.) I think I could eat Mexican food once a day, easy, but every day for three meals? I’m not too sure. And, yes, this means saying adios to tequila and margaritas. Wow, this is harder than I imagined.

Then there is Indian food. I love the curries. Chicken tikka masala and butter chicken are my favorites. Seekh kabobs are delicious as are samosas, biriyani, tandoori chicken and saag paneer. Oh, and don’t forget the naan. Warm, homemade garlic naan, crispy on the outside and tender on the inside, cannot be beat. Yum! I love Indian food, but I have to be in the mood for Indian food.

Speaking of curries, my favorite is gaeng kiew waan (green curry). I make mine hot enough to make you cry. If my nose is not running and my eyes are not tearing, then I don’t think it’s a green curry worth its fish sauce. The Thai restaurant near my house has four levels of heat: mild, medium, hot and Thai hot. Due to a miscommunication, I ended up with Thai hot once. It brought me to my knees, but it was also the best I have ever had. Then there are angel wings (stuffed boneless chicken wings), tom kha gai soup, kao pad sapparod (pineapple fried rice), pad Thai, and don’t forget dessert: sweet sticky rice with mango. Could I commit to this cuisine for the rest of my life? Honestly, no.

How about Vietnamese? I love pho (vegetarian with extra tofu is my favorite). If I don’t have it once a week, I feel neglected. It’s my cure all. Pho, a nice bowl of matzo ball soup or jook (chicken and rice porridge) can cure almost anything. They are truly Vietnamese, Jewish or Filipino penicillin. Any of them work, I swear, but I could not give up everything else for Vietnamese or Jewish or Filipino cuisine, even if that means a few more colds a year.

Japanese would get me farther: green tea, gyoza, edamame, agedashi, katsu, tempura, albacore tataki, sukiyaki, miso, soba noodles, sushi, nigiri, sashimi and teriyaki. I love it all, but still not enough to give up everything else.

What could possibly sustain me forever, until I die?

Then it hit me. Italian! We are not talking American Italian food here: spaghetti and meatballs, pizza and lasagna. I’m talking about real Italian food in all its diversity. Platters of thinly shaved prosciutto de parma, mozzarella di bufala, fresh basil and tomatoes. You could start in Calabria (the tip of the boot) and eat seafood until you could eat no more and then work all the way up to Veneto and Friuli-Venezia Giulia for some risotto and polenta. Each region along the way would offer you there own unique style of food, all celebrating their locally grown and raised foods. Oh, don’t forget Sardinia and Sicily too. How could you ever be bored? And remember, all of Italy loves cheese, wine and espresso. One final word: gelato. Yes, make mine Italian

Gamberi

16 large shrimp, cleaned with tails on
4 garlic glove thinly sliced (I use a special mandolin made for shaving garlic)
Fresh marjoram, chopped (one or two sprigs)
2 Tablespoons extra Virgin olive oil
1 pound Roma tomatoes peeled, seeded and diced
Salt and Pepper
Optional: crushed red pepper to taste

In a nonstick pan, heat extra virgin olive oil and stir in the shrimp and garlic. Sauté until the shrimp are opaque. Add the marjoram, tomatoes, salt and pepper and cook for just a few minutes until heated through. Remove from the heat and serve immediately with bread to soak up sauce.

Minestrone Soup

1 pound spicy Italian sausage (remove casing)
1 sweet onion, such as Vidalia or Maui, diced
3-6 cloves garlic, crushed
3 stalks celery, including leaves, sliced
1 cup baby carrots, sliced
1 parsnip, diced
1 cup cauliflower, chopped
4 cups beef broth
1 pound Roma tomatoes, charred on grill, cored and diced
1 15 oz can kidney beans with liquid
1 ½ cups green cabbage, shredded
1 Tablespoon flat leaf parsley, removed from stems
Black pepper, ground, to taste

Brown sausage; drain fat. Add onion and garlic, sautéing until tender. Add celery, carrots, parsnip, cauliflower and broth. Bring to a simmer. Add tomatoes, beans with liquid and cabbage. Simmer for 20 minutes. Add parsley and pepper to taste.

Serve with crusty bread.

Steamed Artichokes

4 artichokes, trimmed, each the size of a fist
1 lemon cut in half
½ teaspoon dehydrated roasted garlic
¼ teaspoon lemon pepper
¼ teaspoon garlic salt
½ cup water

Press artichokes upside down to open leaves. Rub all cut areas with the lemon. Place artichokes in a medium pressure cooker, on trivet. Add water. Squeeze remaining juice from lemon into pan. Sprinkle artichokes with garlic, pepper and salt. Cover pressure cooker; bring to full pressure. Cook 12 minutes, maintaining pressure. Release pressure. Remove artichokes and serve with garlic aioli, clarified butter or mayonnaise.

Leeks and Shallots

Okay, you are probably going to think less of me for this, but I did not start cooking with leeks until I was in my thirties. I am ashamed of this fact, and believe me, I’ve been punished for it enough already: I missed out on over thirty years of delicious leeks.

My dear friend Vee introduced me to Leeks when we were living together after our first marriages failed. Mine may have failed due to the lack of leeks in my larder. As I began watching Vee cook, I noticed a lot of leeks popping up in her dishes. She is from Belgium where leeks have been used for what appears to be forever. Honestly, I don’t remember seeing leeks in the grocery stores of my childhood. Now they are everywhere, and the ones I purchase at the Farmers’ Market are so sweet, tender and delicious.

I think Vee owes me an apology. She should have handed me a leek on our first day of college together. A bunch of leeks and a pound of Belgium chocolate seems a fitting gift from a foreign exchange student, right?

Maybe the leeks were there all along, back in our college days. I may not have noticed, as she was also know for making hash or Hamburger Helper for dinner in the early days of our friendship. I was just trying not to be rude by turning my nose up at her cooking, so I often instead turned away.

I cannot hold a grudge. How could I? Vee and her family have become part of my extended family, and they supply me with the most delicious chocolate covered caramels from Belgium each year. Even with the Internet, I have not found a way to get these chocolates on my own. So my family and I anxiously await her parents’ visits and her return from Belgium when she travels home. Plus, don’t forget the leeks, and of course, the friendship.

Shallots have been in my pantry for a very long time and became extremely easy to find once Trader Joe’s arrived on the scene. I love to caramelize shallots and add them to almost anything: vegetables, stews, soups, eggs, sandwiches and meat dishes. Or, throw some in to the mix when roasting vegetables. In the fall, try a four onion soup: leeks, shallots, sweet onions and red onions. Don't forget the garlic.  Oh, now I long for a cool autumn evening and a big bowl of warm soup.

Until then, I will be sitting with my boys on our patio for Sunday brunch, dinning on a lovely Leek, Asparagus and Aged Gouda Quiche.

Enjoy!

Leek, Asparagus and Aged Gouda Quiche

1 Tablespoon butter
1 leek (white and light green parts only), rinsed thoroughly, halved and thinly sliced
Sea salt and ground pepper
1 bunch (1 pound) asparagus, tough ends removed and thinly sliced on the diagonal
4 large eggs
1 ¼ cups half-and-half
Ground nutmeg
1 puff pastry sheet, thawed per package directions
1 cup shredded aged Gouda (4 ounces)

Preheat oven to 350˚ with rack in lowest position. Melt butter over medium heat in a large sauté pan.  (I use my Calphalon Commercial Hard-Anodized 12-Inch Everyday Pan with Lid.)  Add leek and asparagus, season with salt and pepper. Cook, stirring occasionally, until asparagus is tender-crisp, about 7 minutes; let cool.

Whisk together eggs, half-and-half, ½ teaspoon salt, ¼ teaspoon pepper, and a pinch of nutmeg. Roll out puff pastry sheet to join seams/folds and to fit a 9-inch deep dish pie plate  (I use a Pyrex Grip-Rite 9 1/2 Inch Pie Plate, Clear.) Place pastry in plate and tuck under edges to fit. No trimming is necessary. Sprinkle pastry with cheese; top with leek and asparagus mixture. Pour egg mixture on top.

Bake until center of quiche is just set, about one hour, turning 1/2 turn after 30 minutes. Let stand for 15 minutes before slicing.

Quiche may be made up to one day ahead; cool and store covered in the refrigerator. To serve, reheat at 350˚until warm in center, approximately 30 minutes.

Variation: Add ½ cup crisped crumbled bacon or prosciutto bits or diced Canadian bacon over cheese prior to adding leek and asparagus mixture.

The Secret to Easily Clean Leeks

Trim off roots and dark green ends of leek. Cut leek lengthwise. Hold leek under running water while fanning root end layers with your fingers to allow any sand to be rinsed away. Dry leek, cut side down on paper towels.  Another option is to slice leeks, and then submerge and swish in a bowl of cold water, leaving behind dirt and sand at bottom of bowl.  Lift leeks out of water and place into a salad spinner to dry.  If the leeks are very dirty, you may need to use several bowls of water to remove all the grit. 

 Easy Shallot Vinaigrette

½ cup cider vinegar
1 medium shallot (the size of a golf ball), peeled and quartered
1 heaping Tablespoon whole grain Dijon mustard (I highly recommend Maille)
1 heaping teaspoon drained capers
½ cup extra virgin olive oil

Place first four ingredients in a mini food processor. Process until purified (there should be no chunks of shallot remaining).

Add oil and process until creamy.

Dressing will last for several weeks, refrigerated.

Beginnings

To the best of my recollection, I took my first cooking class at the age of five.  I was the youngest in the class.  I remember there being teenage boys attempting to learn how to cook before heading off to college.  Honestly, I can't remember what we made, but I want to say rice crispy treats and English muffin pizzas.  English muffin pizza may not have been invented at that point, but you get what I mean:  we were not REALLY cooking.

I still have my very first cookbook:  Betty Crocker's New Boys and Girls Cookbook (1970).  It is worn from use and love.  I was very proud of this book; I still am today.  Occasionally, I make the potato salad from this book.  It calls for homemade French Dressing to flavor the potatoes, celery, relish, onions and eggs.  Just before serving, you toss in some mayonnaise.  I love it, but my boys prefer basic potato salad, consisting of nothing more than potatoes, eggs, mayonnaise and a splash of dill pickle juice, plus salt and pepper to taste.  My grandmother makes their favorite version, so who am I to argue?

My Very First Cookbook                        

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Even as a young child, I knew that making Betty Crocker's "Bunny Salad" consisted little more of playing with your food and was not really cooking.  Imagine canned pear halves arranged on a bed of lettuce as bunnies.  Add raisin eyes, blanched almond ears, Red Hot noses and cottage cheese tails.  Voila, "Bunny Salad"!  I don't recall my mother telling me not to play with my food as a child, but for some reason, playing with food seemed like entering "naughty" territory.  Even today, it can still feel that way, but oh, it can be so worth it.

I am of the belief that fresh Haricot Verts (or in a pinch fresh Blue Lake beans) taste best when lightly steamed (they must still have a crunch), tossed with a little butter and seasoned with salt and pepper and (HERE IS THE TRICK) eaten with your fingers.  My kids can attest to this and even agree.  I don't know what it is.  I thought it might be some chemical reaction with the metal of the fork and knife, but I have experimented with plastic utensils, and they still don't taste right.  This has to be one of the most basic dishes, but it tastes 1000 times better when eaten with your fingers.  Go on, try it!

I may have caused a divorce, or at the very least I've made a man's life hell over this issue.  I was with a chef, heading out to sample a new restaurant's dishes when we bumped into an old friend of the chef's.  Lo and behold, this man and his wife were eating a side dish of steamed green beans.  My heart skipped a beat, and then I looked the gentleman squarely in the eyes and said, "Those will taste better if you eat them with your fingers," so he tried it.  If looks could kill, that man would have fallen face down in his Coq au Vin before swallowing his first green bean.  His wife was disgusted and shocked.  How could her husband of 50+ years suddenly be so savage, have so few manners and take dinning advise from a strange woman less than half his age?  She may never forgive him.  She may have brought it up every family Thanksgiving dinner since.  How could her husband have intentionally embarrassed her to death like that in public?

You might think I feel bad for what I have done to this man.  I do not.  Even if he has never eaten a green bean with his fingers again, he, for one cool autumn night, had the best damn green bean experience of his life.  I do, however, feel bad for his wife.  "She don't know what she's missin'!"

 

HARICOT VERTS

1 pound fresh Haricot Verts

2 Tablespoons butter

sea salt

fresh ground pepper

Rinse and stem beans.  Steam beans until tender crisp.  Toss with butter; add salt and pepper to taste.

Serve hot and eat with your fingers.  Seriously, I'm not kidding about this.