Chicken miso meatballs

Posted on July 20, 2015 by Chelsea

…and then it was a week later, not just a few days. That’s the way summer is sometimes, isn’t it? And there’s about to be another hiatus as I travel to Oregon for our annual visitation.

We are now officially half a year through this meatball exploration. I like assigning myself these year-long projects because they give me plenty of opportunities to experiment, and when I emerge, breathless, come December, I feel I’ve attained (sometimes tenuous) mastery over the subject at hand.

A year-long food project can present challenges, though. The chief difficulty, it seems to me, is the bald truth that single food types don’t often translate well through the seasons. A sweet potato project, as delicious as that might sound, would not be as welcome in July as it would in November. Meatballs, similarly, seem most suited for cooler months: draped with sauce, topped or wedged beside or squashed between bread and cheese, they are a heavy prospect.

What is needed, then, as this month grows more and more sultry, is a summer-soaked meatball: light on the stomach, feathery in texture, heavy only in flavor. Conveniently, this meatball dish delivers not just on flavorful meatballs that didn’t leave us feeling meatball-shaped, but it takes into account and makes gratuitous use of that most prolific and dreaded of summer vegetables: zucchini. If you have a garden, chances are you’re growing zucchini. And as you know, it’s getting to be the season when you’ve given loaves of zucchini bread to everyone you can think of, jammed a few in your freezer for good measure, stuffed and baked a few of the baseball bat sized specimens that escaped your notice for a few weeks, and the thing just keeps spitting out squashes. This dinner takes at least two more off your hands by offering them sliced into thin strands, barely cooked, and woven into a tangle of soba noodles.

For the meatballs themselves I went in an Asian direction, inspired mostly by pot stickers, one of my favorite indulgent snack foods, but in part by the container of miso paste hanging out in the back of my refrigerator. The aggressive saltiness of the paste means you don’t have to add a tremendous amount of additional seasoning to the meatballs, but as long as you are judicious, it doesn’t overwhelm the classic, welcome pairing of ginger and garlic. There’s lemongrass here too, for some fragrance and brightness, its persistent woody fibers tamed and made entirely edible after a run-in with a microplane.

The meatballs cook in a simple broth flavored with more ginger and lemongrass – which conveniently helps you use up those stalks after you’ve grated down the bulb end – and means you can serve this like a pasta, with just a bit of flavorful sauce to moisten the noodles, or, my preference, enough broth to make it almost like a soup, with the meatballs all but bobbing. Beautifully, the meatballs, the noodles, and the broth taste just as good at room temperature as they do just off the stove, in case you, in the midst of summer, are boiling quite enough on your own.

Chicken Miso Meatballs with Soba and Zucchini Noodles

Serves 3-4

For meatballs:

2 tablespoons red miso paste

1 egg

1 lb. ground chicken (dark meat preferred)

1 tablespoon grated lemongrass bulb (remove the outermost layer first, then use a microplane or a zester)

1 tablespoon grated fresh garlic (about 4 cloves)

1 tablespoon grated fresh ginger (easiest if frozen first)

¼ cup finely chopped fresh cilantro

3 tablespoons finely chopped green onion, dark and light green parts only

¼ teaspoon black pepper

½ tablespoon fish sauce

3 tablespoons olive or vegetable oil

For sauce:

3 cups low sodium chicken broth

3 lemongrass bulbs, smashed with the back of a knife (you can certainly use the one you grated from earlier)

knuckle of fresh ginger (about 2 tablespoons)

1-2 tablespoons tamari or soy sauce (if you are gluten-free, be sure to check the label – most soy sauce contains wheat)

For noodles:

2 bundles soba noodles (200 grams or about 7 ounces)

2 medium zucchini

2 teaspoons sesame oil

Toasted sesame seeds and sprigs of cilantro, optional

In a large bowl, whisk together the egg and miso paste. The goal here is to break up the miso a bit for easier integration with the chicken.
Add the ground chicken, lemongrass, garlic, ginger, cilantro, green onion, black pepper, and fish sauce to the egg and miso. Using your fingertips, lightly mix and work the seasonings into the ground chicken until evenly distributed.
Heat a teaspoon of the olive or vegetable oil in a large, deep skillet over medium high heat. Scoop up about a teaspoon of the meatball mixture, press it into a small patty, and fry it about a minute on each side until cooked through, then taste for seasoning and adjust for the rest of the mixture if needed.
Heat the remaining olive or vegetable oil in the skillet over medium high heat. While it warms, use a tablespoon and moist hands to make small meatballs. They will be very soft – don’t worry about making them perfectly round. As you make each tablespoon-sized meatball, set it aside on a clean plate. You should have enough mixture for 18-20 meatballs.
Carefully place meatballs in the skillet, taking care they do not touch. You will likely need to fry them in batches. Brown them on all sides (about 2 minutes per side), then remove to a clean plate. Repeat with a new batch of meatballs until all are browned.
Your skillet should now have a layer of deeply browned bits and drippings stuck to the bottom. This is called fond and it is lush with flavor. Add the 3 cups of chicken broth directly to this residue in the pan and use a whisk to scrape up and incorporate the fond into the liquid. Toss in the smashed lemongrass bulbs and the knob of fresh ginger, then bring to a simmer.
When the liquid reaches a simmer, taste for seasoning. If it needs salt, add the 1-2 tablespoons of soy sauce. Keep in mind the flavors will concentrate a bit as cooking continues. Add all of the meatballs back into the broth mixture. Try to keep them in a single layer, but it’s okay if they bump up against each other now. Clap on the lid, reduce the heat to medium, and simmer for 15-20 minutes, basting and turning the meatballs occasionally.
While the meatballs simmer, make the noodles. Draw a y-shaped peeler along the zucchini lengthwise repeatedly to cut it into long, thin strips. Stack up 5 or 6 of these strips at a time and, very carefully, cut them into thin “noodles” with a sharp knife (see photos above for reference). Set aside.
Cook the soba noodles in boiling salted water according to package directions. About 30 seconds before you are ready to drain them, toss in the zucchini noodles and stir gently. Drain and rinse as instructed.
In the same pot you used for the noodles, heat the 2 teaspoons of sesame oil over medium-low heat. Add the drained noodles back in and toss gently to evenly coat them with the oil and to be sure the zucchini is well distributed, not just clumped up by itself. Keep warm until the meatballs are ready.
To plate, coil up a tangle of soba and zucchini noodles in a shallow bowl. Top with meatballs – 5 per person is about right – and ladle on about ½ cup of broth for a soupy presentation (my preference), or 3-4 tablespoons of broth for a more pasta-like assembly. Add a sprinkle of toasted sesame seeds or sprig of cilantro if desired, and serve hot or warm.

Spicy Carrot and Radish Herb Salad

Posted on June 22, 2015 by Chelsea

It’s dangerously easy to throw some greens into a bowl and crunch through them, but I think this is the kind of preparation that makes people think about salads as boring to make and to eat. With summer in gear and a series of weddings and reunions to attend within the next month or two, I find myself brainstorming salads creative and intriguing enough to hold my interest, so I can more easily convince myself to make choices that keep me ~~responsible~~ ~~healthy~~ fitting into my summer wardrobe. The easiest way of making a salad more exciting, it seems to me (besides just loading it up with cheese and some crisped pork product), is to take ingredients not usually used in a salad and jamming them in there anyway, lettuce be damned. For me, this generally takes the form of whatever dish I’ve been craving, transformed into something you can add an acidic vinaigrette and maybe a few crumbles of cheese to, toasting up a hunk of bread, and calling it dinner.

This particular salad has two geneses. Lately I’ve been craving banh mi, with all its freshness and brightness, but I haven’t wanted to go through the whole production of making all the ingredients myself (which I’d insist upon, because I’m such a responsible foodie stubborn). Rather, I convinced myself, I wanted a salad inspired by a banh mi sandwich. What this meant was a collection of fresh and pickled vegetables, with some brightness from soft green herbs and some heat from jalapeño slices. I dithered over the pickled part, reluctant to devote multiple days to preparing for a simple salad, until I remembered a grain salad my friend S. exalted about a few years ago featuring lightly pickled carrot slices, along with some jalapeño and mint. Wheels turned.

What we have here, then, is a salad that announces its summery freshness through bright, grassy herbs and crunchy cucumber, but still clings to the mild crispness of spring with ribbons of carrots and impossibly thin discs of radish. I find herb salads can get almost medicinal on the tongue, so a handful or two of baby greens tempers the sharpness of the herbs and the pucker of the vegetables after a 2 hour lemon juice bath, and brings this closer to what we usually think of as a salad. You could use any combination of greenery, but lately I’ve been obsessing over the “power to the greens” package from Trader Joe’s – baby chard, kale, and spinach, all tender enough that no stem removal is necessary. Add jalapeños, which I’ve put through the pickling process but you can certainly leave fresh, and you have a salad that pairs happily with almost anything.

Serving suggestions: I can see this making a perfect base for grilled steak or salmon, with or without the addition of some tangy crumbles of goat cheese. I risked all to have it as a side for last week’s crab and shrimp balls, and though there’s a certain digestive peril to the fried + spicy pairing, hey, that’s what alka-seltzer is for. You could even force this back to its banh mi inspiration roots and stuff it inside a baguette or maybe a pita, with or without a protein accompaniment. In all cases, I’d recommend something sparkling to drink alongside – maybe a crisp prosecco or a hefeweizen with a thick wedge of citrus, or, if you prefer to go alcohol-free, a frosted glass of ginger beer with lime, for an intriguing contrasting spice.

Spicy Carrot and Radish Herb Salad

Serves 2-3 as a side salad

1 cup carrot ribbons (from 3-4 small carrots)

1 cup thinly sliced radish discs (from 5-6 radishes)

8-10 thin slices of jalapeño cut on the bias

3-6 tablespoons lemon juice (see options below)

2-4 tablespoons olive oil (see options below)

salt and pepper to taste

1 tablespoon capers

⅓ – ½ cup thin slices of seedless cucumber, cut on the bias

¼ cup cilantro leaves plucked from their stems

¼ cup mint leaves, torn if large, plucked from their stems

¼ cup parsley leaves plucked from their stems

2 tablespoons tender, pale green celery leaves, plucked from their stems, optional

1 cup mixed baby greens

Prepare carrots, radishes, and jalapeño. To make the carrot ribbons, peel carrots, then continue shaving off long pieces with your peeler from one side only. When the carrot gets concave and it’s difficult to make complete ribbons, flip it over and begin the shaving process again. Slice the radishes and jalapeños as thinly as you can or, if you are fancy, use a mandolin slicer (watch your fingers!).
For a quite spicy salad: In a large bowl, whisk together 3 tablespoons of lemon juice with 2 tablespoons of olive oil. Add salt and pepper to taste. Add the carrots, radishes, and jalapeños, toss gently to distribute, and allow them to marinate for about 2 hours. They will soften, pickle slightly, and the vegetables and dressing will take on the spice of the jalapeños.
After 2 hours and just before serving, add the capers, cucumbers, herb leaves, celery leaves (if using), and mixed baby greens to the bowl and toss lightly to combine. Lift out with clean fingers or tongs, let excess dressing drip off a bit, and position on serving plates.
For a moderately spicy salad: In a large bowl, whisk together 3 tablespoons of lemon juice with 2 tablespoons of olive oil. Add salt and pepper to taste. Add the carrots, radishes, and jalapeños and allow them to marinate for about 2 hours. They will soften, pickle slightly, and the vegetables and dressing will take on the spice of the jalapeños.
After 2 hours and just before serving, lift the lightly pickled carrots, radishes, and jalapeños out of the bowl and set them aside for a moment on a paper towel. Discard the remaining liquid in the bowl and wipe clean.
In the clean bowl, whisk together the remaining 3 tablespoons lemon juice and 2 tablespoons olive oil. Season to taste with salt and pepper. Add the vegetables back in, then gently toss with the capers, cucumbers, herb leaves, celery leaves (if using), and mixed baby greens. Lift out with clean fingers or tongs, let excess dressing drip off a bit, and position on serving plates.
For a mildly spicy salad: In a large bowl, whisk together 3 tablespoons of lemon juice with 2 tablespoon of olive oil. Add salt and pepper to taste. Add the carrots and radishes and toss gently to distribute. In another, smaller bowl, combine the jalapeño slices with 1 tablespoon lemon juice and a bit of salt and pepper. Allow all vegetables to marinate for about 2 hours. They will soften and pickle slightly, but the spice will not infiltrate the carrots and radishes as in the above preparations.
After 2 hours and just before serving, add the capers, cucumbers, herb leaves, celery leaves (if using), and mixed baby greens to the bowl with the carrots and radishes and toss lightly to combine. Drain the lightly pickled jalapeños from their lemon juice bath and add them to the salad as well, tossing gently again to combine. Lift out with clean fingers or tongs, let excess dressing drip off a bit, and position on serving plates.
Serve immediately – salad left in its dressing wilts quickly and loses its crisp appeal.

Crab and Shrimp Balls

Posted on June 15, 2015 by Chelsea

I realize that when most people think of a meatball, fish is not what immediately springs to mind. Ground, seasoned meat, bound with egg and sometimes bread, and fried and braised in sauce seems to work for land animals better than those more oceanically-inclined. But I think this is a mistake. After all, what is a fish cake, really, besides a flattened meatball? And crab cakes are such wonderful, beautiful things that, now that summer is upon us, the beach child in me wants to eat all the time (seriously. Lunch and dinner are obvious, but the idea of eggs benedict with a fat, tender crab cake instead of an English muffin fills me with longing). So when it occurred to me that, really, a crab cake was only different from a meatball in shape and mindset, I knew immediately I needed to change both.

The meatball I imagined had to be aggressively herby, bright with citrus zest, and obviously needed to be shallow fried, not braised in sauce. And since N. would not be partaking due to his distaste for shellfish (nobody’s perfect…), I realized I could add shrimp to up the succulence factor even more, and these crab and shrimp balls were born.

You have a few choices when it comes to crab. There’s no sense in harvesting it yourself for this dish – it’s too much work, and the pre-cracked and pasteurized options are perfectly fine. What you really have to decide is whether to blow your budget on lump or jumbo lump meat, which comes in large, sweet pieces from the muscles connected to the crab’s swimming legs, or whether to go for more affordable claw meat. I tend to think the claw meat has a stronger flavor, and since I was going to pulse it up and mix it with herbs anyway (and because I’m cheap), I went with a package of claw meat and was quite pleased with the taste.

As for the shrimp, you want raw, because it will keep the meatball together a bit better, and there’s nothing so unpleasant as rubbery, overcooked shrimp. If you can find it deveined, then all you’ll have to do is pull the shell and tail off before dropping it into the food processor. If you do end up with shrimp that still have the shell and vein, this how-to from the kitchn gives a pretty clear set of instructions for how to do the prep yourself.

Feel free to mix up the herbs to your liking, though I’d include at least one onion-y component. I toyed with the idea of adding a teaspoon or two of excruciatingly finely diced jalapenos, but since I was planning to have this with a spicy salad (more on that next week!), I opted to leave the meatballs themselves heat-free. I do think, though, a bit of fire in these would be lovely, especially if you plan to dunk them into a cooling or fatty sauce of some sort.

Obviously I loved these. I’m a sucker for shellfish in almost any application, and coated in bread crumbs and fried = me rendered completely helpless. Adding citrus zest instead of juice (to control the moisture content of the meatballs) proved to be a particularly good move; it broke up what could have become a monotonous flavor and kept the meatballs feeling bright and light, despite being fried. The panko formed a perfect tight, crisp crust to protect the interior, keeping it hot and relatively ungreasy.

Hearkening back to my childhood when, more often than not, I ordered the fried seafood appetizer platter as my entrée, I ate these meatballs as my main course, accompanied by a banh-mi-inspired salad I’ll tell you more about next week. But they would clearly excel (and go a bit further) as appetizers as well.

Note: you’ll notice that there is panko in the meatballs themselves as well as coating them. I thought about leaving the interior breadcrumb-free, but the resulting mixture was so delicate I feared they would just collapse. Adding this bit of starch and allowing them to chill for 45 minutes before cooking eliminated this risk of disintegration.

Crab and Shrimp Balls

Makes 16 (serves two as an entrée, 4 as an appetizer)

6 ounces crab meat (claw meat is fine, but blow the bank on lump or jumbo lump if you prefer)

8 ounces raw shrimp, preferably peeled and deveined

2 tablespoons minced fresh chives

2 tablespoons minced fresh parsley

2 tablespoons minced fresh dill

2 teaspoons lemon zest, lime zest, or a combination

½ teaspoon salt

¼ teaspoon pepper

1 egg

1 ½ cups panko breadcrumbs, divided

1 cup vegetable oil, to fry

Check your crab and shrimp carefully and remove any lingering shell bits or cartilage, then deposit the meat in the belly of your food processor. Add the herbs, the citrus zest, the salt and pepper, the egg, and ½ cup of panko breadcrumbs. Pulse three or four times for two seconds each, until the herbs are well integrated and the crab and shrimp are broken down a bit. You don’t want a paste, but you do want small pieces that will cling together.
Pour the remaining 1 cup of panko breadcrumbs into a pie plate or other wide dish with sides and spread them out into an even layer. With moistened hands, scoop rounded tablespoons of crab and shrimp mixture, lightly roll them into balls (they will be quite tender), and roll them in the panko until completely coated. Repeat until you have used up all the crab and shrimp mixture, then refrigerate the coated meatballs for 45 minutes to allow them to firm up a bit.
After 45 minutes, remove meatballs from the refrigerator and set them aside while you heat the 1 cup of vegetable oil in a 10 inch skillet. When the oil is shimmering, or when a spare piece of panko you drop in sizzles and small bubbles are released all around it, it’s time to add the meatballs. Place 8 meatballs in the oil carefully, keeping them separate from one another, and cook over medium or medium-high for 2-3 minutes on each side, until they are uniformly crisp and golden (I know, I realize that meat“ball” suggests an absence of sides, but I usually end up with a semi-round object that needs two or three turns to completely immerse).
As the meatballs finish cooking, remove them to a paper-towel-lined plate and repeat with the remaining 8 meatballs. They will stay hot inside for 5-10 minutes, but you can place the finished ones in a warm oven while their compatriots cook, just to be sure.
Serve immediately, with a remoulade or tartar sauce, fries, or a side salad.

Peach Caprese Toasts

Posted on June 8, 2015 by Chelsea

If I were a TV chef, this would be one of those dishes I would cook outside. I’d greet you from my back patio kitchen (because of course I’d have one of those, complete with a great beehive shaped brick pizza oven), offer you a virtual cocktail, and commence a cheery narrative about summers in France when I was a kid, or how this particular combination of ingredients speaks to some cherished family memory. The peaches would have come from my backyard tree, I’d delight you by plucking the basil myself from a tiered herb garden right next to the outdoor bar, and obviously the mozzarella would have come from some local artisan selling fresh knobs of it at the local farmers’ market.

But seeing as I don’t have an outdoor kitchen, and since I’d be a terrible TV chef (uncoordinated, messy, with a penchant for cooking in ripped jeans), I’ll admit that this lovely little snack emerged because I’m basically obsessed with caprese right now. After the triumphant caprese inspired meatballs of two weeks ago, my brain catapulted into summer, and all I want is fresh produce and grilled everything. Nothing says summer to me like a wide tray of gushing tomato wedges, mozzarella almost too soft to slice, and torn basil. If you add a drizzle of thick, syrupy balsamic, you’d better pour me a glass of wine, too, because I’m staying for a while.

Despite the whole Southern California thing, though, I’m not ready to buy tomatoes just yet. Not even at our local farmers’ market (where I shamefully wasn’t locavore enough to look for mozzarella cheese). It’s just not time yet. There is, though, a vendor whose stall is always packed that had a nice selection of stone fruits this week. It seems a bit early for these as well, but when I could smell the peaches from a few feet away, I decided to risk it.

Though this rarely happens, these turned out exactly how I’d imagined them. Usually I can’t help myself from changing something as I go along, or skipping over or adding a step or ingredient, and it’s hard to stop the universe from offering up its own brand of “help” to produce unexpected results.

Not this time. The peaches were juicy, the mozzarella was creamy and perfect, the basil was fresh and crisp, and I didn’t even burn the toast (believe me, that’s an accomplishment). I reduced my balsamic vinegar with a tablespoon of brown sugar, and I may never do it any other way; the sugar thickened it up faster, and it played well with the peaches, eliminating just the edge of the puckering tartness balsamic can have. Obviously, the whole thing went perfectly with a glass of cold, cold, slightly effervescent pink wine.

Suggestions: as we were eating these, I was already talking about alternatives. You could, for example, add the cheese 30 seconds or so before removing the toast from the broiler, to start it melting into the bread for a softer end product. You could grill the peach slices, with or without a brush of butter or brown sugar, for a caramelized fruit flavor. You could even eschew the toast altogether and just offer a platter of layered peach and cheese slices with basil tucked in, as you would with a traditional caprese, and serve it up alongside whatever you’d grilled in your outdoor kitchen. Maybe even add in some cucumber slices for extra crunch. And not that it’s likely you’d have leftovers, but if you, say, casually stacked the peach slices and remaining balsamic syrup over a scoop or two of vanilla ice cream, and then you called me, I’d be happy to come and share it with you.

Peach Caprese Toasts

Serves 2-3 (easily doubled or tripled… go crazy!)

Most quantities here are according to your tastes (translation: approximate). Take the basics and do them up the way you like them best. No fuss. It’s summer.

½ cup balsamic vinegar

1 tablespoon brown sugar

12 slices of baguette, about ¾ inch thick (French or sourdough)

olive oil for drizzling

salt and pepper for sprinkling

2 small peaches

ball of fresh mozzarella (burrata would also be lovely, though a touch messy)

12 leaves fresh basil

Preheat your broiler. While it warms, make the balsamic syrup. Pour the balsamic vinegar and the brown sugar into a small pot and cook over medium heat until it comes to a boil. Lower the heat and simmer until the mixture reduces by half, then turn off the heat and let it sit. It won’t seem very thick during the boil, but just wait! It thickens as it cools into a tart, glossy syrup.
Spread baguette slices out on a cookie sheet and drizzle them with olive oil, salt, and pepper. You want a fairly even coating of oil for even browning. Broil, watching carefully to prevent burning, until the toasts are golden and crisp on top to your liking. For me this took about 3 minutes. Remove and let cool slightly, OR top each toast with mozzarella slices and broil just another 30-60 seconds until the cheese begins to melt.
To assemble, place a slice of mozzarella cheese on each toast (unless, of course, you already did with the melted option). Top that with a basil leaf, then a peach slice. Place on a platter or serving dish.
Use a spoon to drizzle on some of the balsamic syrup – I like a thin striped pattern back and forth across the whole thing.
If desired, you can also drizzle the top of the toasts with olive oil, and sprinkle with sea salt for a little extra lushness.
Serve immediately as an appetizer, preferably with something sparkling to drink.

Caprese Meatballs

Posted on May 29, 2015 by Chelsea

You may have noticed there was no recipe post on Monday. I could, were I a bit less honest, have sold you on the idea that this was related to the holiday weekend, or me traveling, or some such minor fabrication. But I don’t have a great poker face, so I’ll admit it was in fact because I’ve been feeling a bit of whatever the cook’s version of writer’s block might be called. I had cloudy ideas of things I could cook, I just didn’t really feel like figuring them out.

Then I went to a wedding in Sacramento on Sunday, and saw a friend I realized I’ve known for over a decade, despite last seeing him something like seven or eight years ago. As we caught up, he told me he’d had to stop reading this blog because it always made him hungry, and licking his computer screen seemed like a bad idea. Despite the concerning image this conjured, it tripped something in my brain. Making you hungry is just what I’m after! That means – at least in his case – this blog is doing its job.

Thereafter, the block was broken. On the drive back to Los Angeles (only while I was a passenger, of course), I kept having to text myself food ideas. One was these meatballs, which I’m posting off-schedule because I have to get them in while it’s still May! I know you aren’t reading this, J., but I hope you would want to eat them anyway, since it’s your fault thanks to you that they came to be.

Previous to my little block, my sister and I had a rapid-fire email exchange of meatball ideas. One of her suggestions – a bruschetta meatball – eventually morphed into what I came up with here: a nod to a caprese salad in a moment when the juicy, swollen garden-ripe tomatoes of your dreams are far from ready. A beef meatball shot through with sundried tomato chunks, ribbons of basil, and roasted garlic. Seared and then simmered in a balsamic vinegar and red wine sauce. And then, the pay-off: the glorious goo of melted mozzarella cheese oozing out from the inside. We snuggled them down in a pillow of soft polenta and gobbled them up before the cheese inside had time to cool.

Though I prefer these meatballs piping hot with a molten center of oozing cheese, they are also tasty as part of a sandwich or an antipasti platter. In fact, they basically are the platter – tomato, herbs, cheese, and meat already included. They just need a drizzle of olive oil, maybe a few torn leaves of fresh basil or parsley, and a glass of wine to complete the picture.

A word: as you’ll see from the procedure, these are delicate little beasts. I made mine without the egg I’ve added to the ingredient list here, and half of my meatballs were oozing cheese before they completed their simmer. They were still good, but didn’t have the melty surprise factor I was hoping for. The addition of egg should make the meat and crumbs bind more securely. Still, though, be gentle as you work with these, and be doubly triply sure the cheese is completely enclosed inside the meat mixture before you introduce them to the heat.

Caprese Meatballs

Makes 10-12 large meatballs

For meatballs:

4 cloves garlic + a splash of olive oil

½ cup fresh bread crumbs

½ cup milk or cream

½ cup oil-packed sundried tomatoes, well drained

1 cup loosely packed basil leaves

1 tablespoon finely chopped chives – I like to use my kitchen scissors

1 teaspoon salt

½ teaspoon pepper

12 ounces (3/4 lb.) ground beef, at least 15% fat

1 egg, beaten

10-12 room temperature miniature mozzarella balls, or 10-12 small cubes of fresh mozzarella cheese

3 tablespoons olive oil

For sauce:

Meatball drippings

1 tablespoon flour

1 ½ cups beef broth or chicken broth

1 cup dry red wine

¼ cup balsamic vinegar

salt and pepper to taste

1-2 teaspoons brown sugar or honey, optional

To serve:

Soft polenta, cooked according to package directions with water, milk, or broth

A few sprigs of basil for presentation, if desired

Place garlic and splash of olive oil in a small oven-safe dish. Cover with aluminum foil and roast at 300F for 20-25 minutes, until garlic cloves are soft and fragrant inside their skins. When cool enough to handle, remove and discard the skins.
Once you’ve ground your fresh bread crumbs in the food processor, combine them with the milk or cream in a small bowl and let sit for 10 minutes or so to soak.
In the belly of the food processor, combine the sundried tomatoes, basil, cooled and peeled garlic cloves, and chives. Pulse at 3 seconds intervals until all ingredients are very finely chopped. They won’t quite form a paste because there’s no liquid in the mix, but they should all be in very small pieces for easy meatball integration.
Dump the tomato and herb mixture into a mixing bowl. Drain the bread crumbs by squeezing them out with your hands, then add the crumbs to the tomato and herb mixture. Add the salt, pepper, ground beef, and egg, and use your fingertips to lightly combine into a fairly homogenous mixture.
(If you want to check for seasoning at this point, heat a very small puddle of olive oil in a large skillet over medium high heat and drop in a teaspoon or two of the meat mixture. Let it cook, then taste. Adjust salt and pepper as needed.)
When you are ready to form the meatballs, flatten about 2 tablespoons of the meat mixture in your hand, then enclose it around one of the room temperature mozzarella balls. It’s important for the cheese to be room temperature because otherwise it might not melt completely inside the meatball during the simmer. Be sure the cheese is completely sealed inside the meat layer; structural integrity is important! Repeat until meat mixture is used up, setting each meatball on a plate once formed.
Heat 3 tablespoons of olive oil in a large skillet over medium-high heat until shimmering. Gently add the meatballs in a single layer and allow them to sear undisturbed for about 2 minutes per side. When nicely browned on all (or at least most) sides, remove to a clean plate while you make the sauce.
Reduce the heat on the skillet to medium and sprinkle 1 tablespoon of flour over the remaining oil and meatball drippings already in the pan. Whisk the flour into the drippings and let cook for a minute or two into a soft golden smear.
Slowly add the broth, whisking continuously to ensure no lumps form, then add the red wine and the balsamic. Cook, whisking occasionally, until the liquid reaches a simmer. Simmer for 5-10 minutes, turning the heat down if needed. The sauce will take on a velvety appearance and thicken slightly. Now give it a taste, and season with salt and pepper as needed. If it is too acidic for you, add 1-2 teaspoons brown sugar or honey, but remember it will be less intense once ladled over meatballs and polenta.
When the sauce is velvety and slightly thickened, add the meatballs back in. Be gentle! We don’t want them to crack open.
Simmer the meatballs in the sauce, basting often (but not flipping – again, structural integrity!), for 15 minutes. Serve immediately over soft polenta with a spoonful or two of sauce.

Green bean and roasted red potato salad with blue cheese

Posted on May 11, 2015 by Chelsea

As buried in pages as I am, it’s difficult to believe that I’m only one week away from “summer.” Well, four days of class and about 120 mixed papers and exams. This is difficult to bear – something about this semester has been more burdensome than usual. It’s hard to know how to feel when there is so little time but so much work between me and those glorious two and a half months of no work but also no paycheck.

As if matching my own cloudy-with-a-chance-of-vacation feeling, our weather lately has taken turns back and forth between what looks like summer and what, for here, passes as wintry. Typically June mornings in Southern California are overcast such that they even have their own nickname: June gloom. We’ve hit this a trifle early, it would seem, with the last week sporting what my officemate helpfully titled “May gray,” and temperatures barely grazing 70F. This is, it would seem, an uncertain entree to summer.

Speaking of entrees, let’s talk food. Specifically, let’s talk potato salad. It’s not summer just yet, so it’s a little soon to dive into a platter of mayonnaise-robed spuds shot through with crisp cubes of onion and pickle. But because I surely am not the only one longing for everything a good potato salad represents, this adaptation from The Bon Appétit Cookbook is a perfect compromise. Here, roasted potatoes provide warmth and comfort, all caramelized edges and creamy softness, but a sharp, tangy mustard vinaigrette and crisp-tender green beans push the dish salad-ward.

To fill my yen for green vegetables, I’ve doubled the amount of green beans and reduced the quantity of oil from the original. I’ve also eliminated walnuts and changed up the herbs to suit my fancy, and gone with whole grain rather than dijon mustard, because I like the tart pop of the little seeds. This can be eaten at room temperature as well as slightly warm, but because a generous scattering of blue cheese adds a creaminess and funk to the party, you don’t want things too heated, lest melting commence.

This is the kind of dish that contents me as an entree. I suspect it would happily welcome a handful of crisp crumbled prosciutto or diced hard salami, if you want a little meaty component. If you’re treating it as a side dish, I highly recommend sausages of any variety to round out the plate, or a nicely roasted or grilled pork tenderloin.

As most things are, this was just as good on day two heated up just enough to take the chill off, and topped with a fried egg still runny enough in the yolk to offer a velvet golden cascade that turned the salad into something more like a hash, my own ideal of comfort food. It’s the very thing you need, when you know summer is coming but you can’t quite see the light yet.

Green Bean and Roasted Red Potato Salad with Blue Cheese

Adapted from The Bon Appétit Cookbook

Serves 6 as a side dish

For dressing:

¼ cup whole grain mustard

3 tablespoons white wine vinegar

½ cup olive oil

3 tablespoons finely minced chives

2 teaspoons finely minced sage

For salad:

2 pounds red skinned potatoes, cut into 1-inch chunks

16 ounces green beans, trimmed of stem ends and halved on an angle

⅔ cup crumbled blue cheese

For the dressing, combine the mustard and vinegar in a 2-cup measuring cup or a small bowl. Gradually whisk in the oil until well emulsified. Add the herbs and season to taste with salt and pepper, keeping in mind the flavor will be much sharper alone than when it’s coating the salad.
Preheat oven to 450F. Toss the potato chunks with ¼ cup of the dressing in a 9×13 inch baking dish. Roast for 20 minutes at 450F.
After 20 minutes, reduce the oven temperature to 375F. Shuffle the potatoes around for even browning, then roast 30-45 minutes more, until tender. Stir and shake once or twice during the cooking process to minimize sticking and ensure even cooking. When potatoes are tender, remove from oven and set aside to cool slightly.
While potatoes cook, bring a large skillet of salted water to a boil and drop in the green beans. Cook until crisp-tender, 2 to 3 minutes, then drain and cool.
When the beans and potatoes are still warm but not piping hot, combine in a large bowl (or just keep them in the original baking dish, as I did), add cheese and ¼ cup of the dressing (you may need to re-whisk the dressing first, as it will separate as it sits), and toss gently. Taste for dressing and seasoning, and adjust to your preferences (I added about 2 tablespoons additional dressing and a bit of black pepper).
Serve warm or at room temperature.