Late to the Party

Recipe: Wheat Berry Salad with Chickpeas, Craisins, Feta and Mint

There are two things you can count on around here... that I'm always going to be the last to do or know about anything - which most certainly applies to new (or once they get to me, old) trends, and that I know nothing, and I mean literally zero, about anything related to pop culture, or that is cool or hip (for that matter, do "we" even say the word "hip" at this point?).

While I'm sure this surprises no one, not the least of which you all - after all, you've been privy to just a few of the recipes I throw around in our kitchen (frittatas? sausage soup? bar cookies? a fruit trifle? and sometimes, two chocolate recipes at once?), it did feel good to wipe yet another embarrassing admission off my chest.

Over two years ago, I read post after post of Susan's (among others) about bulgur, farro, quinoa, and a number of other whole grains that I'd never even heard of (truth be told, at the time, I was cooking whole wheat couscous, calling it a whole grain); and, they sounded not only delicious but each also boasted incredible health benefits. Thus it's fitting, albeit late as expected, that I've finally located (honestly, this was half the battle), cooked, and fallen hard for... wheat berries.

Since then, though, you can be sure that I've seen right through (past, and around) the hour-long cooking time required to transform these once dry and light-as-air pellets into tender little nuggets of chewy, wheaty, wholesomeness. In the very short time that we've been acquainted, our new pal has already met us in two delicious recipes (one of which got unfairly short-changed being served past the bewitching hour of decent photos), leaving us with over half a bag of the little gems waiting for their day to shine. And shine they will... as these low-maintenance guys certainly don't need much help.

How to cook wheat berries:

Add 1 cup dried wheat berries to a medium-to-large sized pot and fill pot with water, covering the wheat berries by at least an inch or more. Bring the water to a boil and then turn down to just simmering for about an hour, or until tender. Drain the wheat berries. From here you can either use them right away or store them in an airtight container in your refrigerator for several days.

Recipes with wheat berries that we've enjoyed:
Wheat Berry Salad with chickpeas, Craisins, feta, and mint (chickpeas were my substitution)
Wheat Berry Salad with black beans, feta, onions, and red onion vinaigrette (black beans were my addition; we loved this vinaigrette!)

It's My Weakness

If my recent, earth-shattering, trick wasn't enough to really prove my worth - I'm about to blow the roof off this kitchen. Just you wait.

A short year and a half ago, I admitted that I'd never successfully hard-boiled an egg. Now I'm back with another shameful admission. Why I do this to myself (and assume you care), I have no idea. But lucky for you, on the other side of embarrassing myself, you'll get the recipe for an amazing Roasted Poblano and Corn Chowder. It's worth the wait... I promise.

You've probably noticed a few things about the way I run things around here... if I can't cook an entire recipe pretty much from scratch, the chances of it being made are slim to none. And using (what I consider) to be weird ingredients? Not gonna happen. So you can imagine my hesitation when I saw that this recipe included poblano peppers (who live somewhere close to the top of my list of unusual ingredients - embarrassing fact #2893) and not only did you have to find them, but then you had to roast them, yourself (to this day, the only roasted peppers included in any recipes I'd made were the bottled version - embarrassing fact #4589).

You can't make stuff like this up. It's true... this pot of lightly creamy but packed full of hearty vegetables chowder represents my first foray into roasting my own peppers... whether of the bell or poblano variety (and so goes my continued loss of credibility as someone who rambles about food). With this admission comes a whole host of excuses that I will spare you from - but just know I've got 'em. Thinking it was necessary to have a gas stovetop may or may not have been one of them.

Luckily, though, you get to enjoy the fruits of my er... test (can't call that labor, roasting the peppers was so darn easy!). Although not entirely since sadly you won't be able to dig into this jam-packed full bowl of chowder.

But before you're off a-roastin' and chopping, please indulge me... what's your deepest, darkest kitchen secret? Do you always burn your microwave popcorn? Is the taste of PB&J on fluffy (store-bought!) white bread still your absolutely favorite meal in the world? Or perhaps, some of your most oft-requested recipes are crafted from the humblest of boxed mixes?

Roasted Poblano Corn Chowder
brought to you by Kim

2 TBSP butter
2 cloves garlic, minced
1 onion, chopped
1 stalk celery, diced
1/3 C flour
4 c chicken stock
1 carrot, diced
2 lbs potatoes, scrubbed and diced
1 lb frozen corn
1 red bell pepper
3 poblano peppers
1 c milk
½ cup cream
½ lb frozen spinach (whole leaf)
salt
pepper
cayenne, to taste

Roast peppers (poblanos and red bell): lightly coat a small baking pan with cooking spray and place your whole, washed peppers under the broiler. Monitor and turn until all side of the peppers are browned; quickly move to an airtight container (or paper bag) to steam for about 5-10 minutes after which you will gently rub off the roasted skin. Use the back of your knife to scrape away seeds and white pithy spines inside the peppers. Chop your freshly roasted peppers into a dice.

Chop garlic, onion, and celery and saute in butter until soft. Add flour to make a rue and cook for about one minute (to eliminate any flour taste).

Add stock and stir to combine. Add potatoes, peppers, frozen corn, and carrots and bring to a boil, then reduce to simmer.

Cook until all veggies are soft, then slowly add milk. Bring back to a boil, and then turn off the heat and add your spinach (can add frozen or fresh), cream, and salt, pepper, and cayenne, to taste.

Optional: top with cheese (cheddar or Monterey Jack), or avocado, or tortilla chips.

Just Warm Enough

Have you heard? It's snowing here. A lot. And there's more coming shortly following this bunch. I'm more than happy, inside with this girl (who'd rather be outside) tucked in between us, acting as our economical and energy-efficient heat blanket.

This has almost nothing to do with what was on my mind, food-wise, today. But I thought you should be aware of the circumstances that we're dealing with here.

The last time I thought about (read: craved and subsequently proclaimed that it would be ours) this spinach quiche the view out our windows was quite a bit more colorful. And the only thing falling from the sky was a rainbow of leaves, lightly floating their way down; and while the current snowflakes descend just as peacefully, they certainly make quite a bit more of an impact.

And thus for no logical reason, as the piles of white grew higher and higher this morning, I fell deeper in denial that it would actually paralyze our city. So in an effort to not give in to every predictable freezing-weather comfort foods, this quiche popped into my head.

I can not tell a lie, however. This not-too-creamy (allowing the spinach to shine through) but just-the-right-amount of cheesy quiche (encased by a perfectly buttery crust) sadly wasn't what we consumed today. With almost two feet of snow on the ground, my sedan wasn't about to get me to the (in all probability closed) grocery store.

But the memory of it (effortless preparation, economic ingredients, three cheeses blended seamlessly with dark green spinach, sophisticated presentation) was enough to keep me warm - mind you, not paralyzed-by-the-snow warm, but comfortable enough.

*I should mention that this pie crust recipe is the first one I can claim as 100% fool-proof. And, lucky us, it makes enough for two quiches/pies (you get the idea) and stores perfectly in the freezer so you can bet I'll be pulling the second out for round two in a matter of days.